GIFT   OF 
MICHAEL  REESE 


1*5% 


The  body  'within  which  I  cast  a  shadow. 

PUR.  in.  26. 


SHADOW   OF   DANTE 


Eetng  an  €ssap 


TOWARDS  STUDYING  HIMSELF,   HIS  WORLD 

AND   HIS  PILGRIMAGg^ 
^ 


BY 

MARIA   FRANCESCA    ROSSETTI 


So  may  God  let  thee,  Reader,  gather  fruit 

From  this  thy  reading. 

INF.  xx.  19,  a 


ROBERTS     BROTHERS 

3  SOMERSET  STREET,  BOSTON 
MDCCCLXXXVI 


JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE. 


?Q 


SDeUfcateO 

TO 

THE    BELOVED    MEMORY 
OF    MY    FATHER 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  PREFATORY  AND  INTRODUCTORY     i 

II.  DANTE'S  UNIVERSE 9 

III.  DANTE'S  LIFE-EXPERIENCE 18 

IV.  THE  WOOD,  AND  THE  APPARITION  OF  VIRGIL  .  32 
V.  THE  HELL 43 

VI.  DANTE'S  PILGRIMAGE  THROUGH  HELL     ...  64 

VII.  THE  PURGATORY 107 

VIII.  DANTE'S  PILGRIMAGE  THROUGH  PURGATORY    .  121 

IX.  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN,  AND  THE  DESCENT  OF 

BEATRICE 183 

X.  THE  PARADISE 201 

XI.  DANTE'S  PILGRIMAGE  THROUGH  PARADISE  .    .  207 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


DANTE'S  PORTRAIT  BY  GIOTTO,  AND  HIS  DEATH- 
MASK  (drawn  by  H.  T.  DUNN)     ....  Frontispiece 

THE  UNIVERSE to  face  page  9 

THE  HELL "        "43 

THE  PURGATORY "        "107 

THE  ROSE  OF  THE  BLESSED   ...  "        "201 


CHAPTER   I. 
PREFATORY  AND  INTRODUCTORY. 

Dunque  che  e  ?  perche,  perche  ristai  ? 

What  is 't  then  ?  wherefore,  wherefore  hold'st  thou  back  ? 

Inf.  ii.  121. 

DANTE  is  a  name  unlimited  in  place  and  period.  Not 
Italy,  but  the  Universe,  is  his  birthplace ;  not  the 
fourteenth  century,  but  all  Time,  is  his  epoch.  He  rises 
before  us  and  above  us  like  the  Pyramids — awful,  massive, 
solitary ;  the  embodiment  of  the  character,  the  realization  of 
the  science,  of  his  clime  and  day;  yet  the  outcome  of  a 
far  wider  past,  the  standard  of  a  far  wider  future.  Like  the 
Pyramids,  again,  he  is  known  to  all  by  name  and  by  pic- 
torial representation ;  must  we  not  add,  like  them  unknown 
to  most  by  actual  sight  and  presence  ?  Who  among  us  has 
indeed  experienced  the  soul-subduing  hush  of  his  solemnity  ? 
who  beheld  all  average  heights  dwarfed  by  his  sublimity  ? 

Even  of  his  fellow-linguists  how  many  have  read  his  great 
poem  through  ?  One  of  themselves  has  said  it  —  few  have 
gone  beyond  the  Inferno ;  nay,  most  have  stopped  short  at 
two  passages  of  the  Inferno  —  Francesca  da  Rimini  and  il 
Conte  Ugolino.  And  of  his  fellow-cosmopolitans  how  many 


General  ignorance  of  Dante: 


have  read  even  so  much  ?  If  in  cultivated  society  we  start 
him  as  a  topic  of  conversation,  how  far  is  our  interlocutor 
likely  to  sympathize  with  our  vivid  interest?  How  many 
young  people  could  we  name  as  having  read  Dante  as  a 
part  of  their  education  ? 

Yet  the  Divina  Commedia  has  been  translated,  especially 
of  late  years,  again  and  again  :  copiously  treated  of  by 
authors  of  European  reputation.  The  few  pore  over  such 
works ;  but  what  of  the  many?  They  have  probably  glanced 
through  Gustave  Dore's  illustrations ;  but  as  to  the  poem 
itself,  even  those  who  have  learned  Italian  look  upon  Dante 
in  his  native  tongue  as  too  far  above  their  attainments ; 
those  who  have  not  never  think  of  making  such  acquaint- 
ance with  him  as  is  possible  in  their  own  language ;  while 
the  glosses  of  commentators  are  usually  bound  up  with  the 
text,  and  are  at  any  rate  too  closely  connected  with  it  to  be 
available  as  independent  outlines,  even  did  they  not  often 
take  for  granted  in  the  reader  a  certain  amount  of  prelimi- 
nary knowledge  and  interest.  And  so  it  comes  to  pass  that 
in  England  comparatively  few  among  cultivated  and  intel- 
lectual people  have  a  thorough  and  enjoying  knowledge  of 
one  of  the  greatest  works  of  man. 

As  to  those  who  are  sufficiently  Italian  scholars  to  read 
Tasso  with  ease  and  pleasure,  they  are  simply  under  a  mis- 
apprehension in  supposing  themselves  incompetent  to  pass 
on  to  Dante.  They  would  understand  him  very  well  with 
notes ;  and  even  highly-educated  Italians  would  not  always 
understand  him  without.  The  case  is  much  like  that  of 
Shakspeare  —  Englishmen  are  disputing  to  this  day  as  to  the 
meaning  of  many  of  his  utterances,  and  so  are  Italians  as 
to  the  meaning  of  Dante.  For  his  difficulties,  confessedly 


his  peculiarities  and  difficulties.  3 

great,  are  of  a  kind  to  meet  the  reader  scarcely  less  in  a 
good  translation  than  in  the  original.  At  their  very  head  we 
must  place  one  of  his  chief  perfections  :  —  conciseness  such 
that  a  word  often  requires  expansion  into  a  clause,  a  clause 
into  a  sentence,  which  may  yet  fail  of  being  understood  till 
amplified  into  an  expository  paragraph.  Nay,  his  style  is 
more  than  concise  :  it  is  elliptical  —  it  is  recondite.  A  first 
thought  often  lies  coiled  up  and  hidden  under  a  second; 
the  words  which  state  the  conclusion  involve  the  premises 
and  develop  the  subject.  The  abstract  disquisitions  with 
which  the  poem  abounds  afford  the  principal,  though  by 
no  means  the  sole,  field  for  the  exercise  of  this  marvellous 
gift  of  recondite  expression.  A  reader  —  could  such  be 
found  —  equal  in  knowledge  to  the  poet  himself,  might  still 
fail  to  recognize  at  a  glance  each  inhabitant  of  his  populous 
universe,  and  to  solve  at  a  thought  each  allusive  quasi- 
enigma  embodying  the  fictions  of  mythology,  and  the  truths 
of  science  according  to  the  highest  attainments  of  the 
period.  Astronomy  becomes  especially  perplexing  in  his 
hands ;  the  dates  of  the  poem,  both  as  to  hour  and  season, 
being  hinted  in  descriptions  of  the  position  of  the  heavenly 
bodies,  pretty  sure  to  darken  the  reader's  perceptions  but 
for  the  friendly  aid  of  the  commentator,  whose  elaborate 
notes  usually  culminate  in  the  one  necessary  and  often 
only  intelligible  fact :  '  It  was  the  vernal  equinox ; '  '  It  was 
noon,  sunset/  etc. 

Another  of  Dante's  characteristics  is  ambiguity  —  an  am- 
biguity, however,  not  hazy,  but  prismatic,  and  therefore 
not  really  perplexing.  Why  refuse  to  discern  a  double 
truth  under  a  single  word-presentment  in  such  a  passage 
as  the  following? 


Subjects  treated  of  by  Dante. 


1 1  will  be  thy  guide, 

And  bring  thee  hence  by  an  eternal  place; 
Where  thou  shalt  hearken  the  despairing  shrieks, 
Shalt  see  the  ancient  Spirits  dolorous, 
That  each  one  outcries  for  the  second  death.' 

Inf.  I.  113-117. 

The  last  line  may  signify  either  '  Each  cries  out  on  account 
of  the  second  death  which  he  is  suffering,'  or  '  Each  cries  out 
for  death  to  come  a  second  time  and  ease  him  of  his  suffer- 
ings.' Both  significations  being  true,  why  should  we  narrow 
our  inheritance  by  rejecting  one  ? 

Such,  then,  is  frequently  the  style  in  which  Dante  deals 
with  a  range  of  subject  wellnigh  encyclopaedic.  He  seems 
to  have  familiarly  known  everything  that  could  be  learned, 
and  to  have  watched  with  closest  attention  the  men  and 
the  politics  of  his  day.  Are  we  of  those  who,  deeply  and 
intelligently  interested  in  the  past,  love  in  every  period  to 
dive  below  the  surface,  and  welcome  as  peculiarly  precious 
every  ray  of  contemporary  light  thrown  on  persons  and 
events  ?  Dante  is  a  focus  of  such  rays :  bask  we  in  them, 
and  we  shall  know  what  at  the  end  of  the  thirteenth  and 
the  beginning  of  the  fourteenth  century  —  among  the 
most  intellectual  people  of  the  West  —  were  the  highest 
attainments  of  the  highest  minds  in  physical  science ;  what 
natural  and  moral  problems  received  an  astrological  solution ; 
what  judgment  was  passed  at  the  time,  or  soon  afterwards, 
on  such  personages  as  Frederick  II.  of  Germany,  Philippe 
le  Bel,  Charles  of  Anjou;  what  was  the  character  of  the 
petty  Italian  States  and  princes  of  the  period ;  what  man- 
ners and  customs  prevailed ;  what  corruptions  revolted 
dignified  and  pious  souls ;  how  nearly  on  the  same  level  of 


Plan  of  this  Work. 


reality  mediasval  habits  of  thought  and  study  placed  historic 
fact  and  classic  fable ;  what  were  the  speculations  of  philo- 
sophers, what  the  contemplations  of  theologians,  what  the 
general  tone  of  moral  and  religious  thought  in  those  who  by 
reason  of  use  had  their  senses  exercised  to  discern  both 
good  and  evil. 

But  great  as  is  the  profit  derived  by  the  mind  from  the 
study  of  the  Commedia,  greater,  far  greater,  is  the  profit 
accruing  to  the  soul  which,  through  the  medium  of  that 
chain  of  visions  wherein  Dante's  colossal  intellect  has 
embodied  its  conceptions,  contemplates  truths  the  most 
momentous,  spiritual,  and  ennobling  that  can  engage  the 
thoughts  of  man. 

Any  acquaintance  with  a  work  so  sublime  must  needs 
be  better  than  none.  A  shadow  may  win  the  gaze  of  some 
who  never  looked  upon  the  substance,  never  tasted  the 
entrancement  of  this  Poet's  music,  never  entered  into  the 
depths  of  this  Philosopher's  cogitations.  My  plan  is  very 
simple.  After  in  some  degree  setting  forth  what  Dante's 
Universe  is  as  a  whole,  and  what  autobiography  and  history 
show  his  life-experience  to  have  been,  I  proceed  to  expound 
in  greater  detail  —  here  and  there  unavoidably  with  slight 
repetition  —  the  physical  and  moral  theories  orf  which  his 
Three  Worlds  are  constructed;  and  to  narrate,  now  in 
his  own  words,  now  in  a  prose  summary,  the  course  of  his 
stupendous  pilgrimage.  As  in  this  narration  my  objects 
are  mainly  to  carry  on  his  autobiography,  to  study  his 
character,  to  be  spiritualized  by  his  spirit  and  upborne  on 
his  wings  —  also,  though  subordinately,  to  exemplify  his 
treatment  of  the  subjects  above  enumerated,  —  the  extracts 
are  such  as  seem  to  me  best  suited  to  promote  these  ends ; 


6  Literality  of  translation. 

the  episodes  being  usually  passed  over.  I  use  two  line-for- 
line  blank  verse  translations,  of  the  degrees  of  whose  force  and 
beauty  the  reader  will  be  able  to  judge  :  my  brother  W.  M. 
Rossetti's  for  the  Inferno,  Mr.  Longfellow's  for  the  Purgatorio 
and  Paradise,  retaining  in  each  case  any  typographical  pecu- 
liarity. Difficulties  are  explained  in  the  text  or  in  footnotes  : 
these  last,  when  taken  verbatim  from  the  Translators,  are 
distinguished  by  inverted  commas ;  and  where  a  passage  of 
any  length  is  paraphrased,  the  reference  at  the  beginning 
is  repeated  at  the  end.  Not  without  regret,  I  sacrifice  to 
faithful  literality  the  pleasure  of  making  readers  ignorant  of 
Italian  acquainted  with  the  exquisite  ternary  rhyme  of  the 
Commedia,  so  ably  preserved  in  the  translations  by  Mr. 
Cayley,  the  Rev.  John  Dayman,  and  the  Rev.  Prebendary 
Ford.  The  like  faithful  literality  will  be  found  to  charac- 
terize my  own  rendering  of  passages  from  Dante's  prose 
works  ;  the  blemish,  as  it  would  now  by  many  be  considered, 
of  frequent  tautology  being  by  no  means  avoided.  The 
principle  of  translation  should,  I  think,  be  one  thing,  wh^n 
an  author  and  a  style  unique  and  immortal  are  to  be 
set  in  living  truth  before  living  eyes;  quite  another  thing 
when  minds  merely  need  to  be  enabled  profitably  and 
pleasurably  to  assimilate  thoughts  generated  and  originally 
expressed,  it  may  even  be  with  no  distinctive  force  or  grace, 
in  a  tongue  not  their  own.  Whether  the  tautology  of  classic 
Greece  and  mediaeval  Italy  be  in  truth  a  blemish  at  all,  is  a 
question  foreign  to  my  present  purpose. 

Where  commentators  differ,  especially  on  minor  points, 
I  frequently  adopt  without  discussion  that  view  which 
most  commends  itself  to  my  own  mind.  And  in  any  slight 
hints,  whether  original  or  not,  on  the  interpretation  of  the 


Obligations  acknowledged. 


poem,  the  one  charge  I  would  earnestly  deprecate  is  that 
of  exclusiveness.  It  is  scarcely  less  difficult  to  determine 
what  is  not,  than  what  is,  in  Dante.  The  prismatic  charac- 
ter before  noticed  in  particular  passages  belongs  still  more 
to  his  marvellous  work  as  a  whole,  and  according  to  each 
one's  tone  of  mind  and  groove  of  thought  will  be,  to  a  great 
extent,  the  contemplations  based  upon  it.  A  second  Dante 
alone  could  confidently  exclude  any  sense  not  intrinsically 
unworthy  of  the  first. 

It  only  remains  to  acknowledge  my  obligations,  among 
Italian  commentators,  to  my  late  dear  Father,  to  Professor 
Ferrazzi,  and  to  Signer  Fraticelli,  whose  excellent  diagrams 
have  supplied  the  designs,  though  not  the  whole  of  the 
letterpress,  for  three  of  my  own  :  —  among  English  commen- 
tators to  Mr.  Cayley,  and  to  Professor  Longfellow  both  for 
the  information  gathered  from  his  notes,  and  for  his  most 
kind  welcome  to  the  use  of  his  eminently  faithful  and 
beautiful  translation. 


' 


CHAPTER   II. 
DANTE'S   UNIVERSE. 

Mi  mise  dentro  alle  segrete  cose. 

He  ushered  me  within  the  secret  things. 

Inf.  m.  21. 

'T^O  one  unacquainted  with  the  Ptolemaic  system,  and 
•*•  unprovided  with  suitable  maps,  the  Dantesque  cos- 
mology presents  difficulties  almost  as  insuperable  as  those 
geography  would  offer  to  a  child  destitute  of  an  atlas.  The 
scheme  of  the  Universe  has  to  be  picked  out  here  and 
there  throughout  the  poem ;  and  I  propose  in  this  chapter 
to  present  my  reader  with  a  preliminary  bird's-eye  view  of 
that  world  through  which  we  are  about  to  become  fellow- 
pilgrims  with  the  Poet. 

The  central  point  of  Dante's  Universe  is  that  central 
point  of  the  Earth  which  constitutes  the  centre  of  gravity. 
Hither  with  Dante  we  descend  through  the  Pit  of  Hell; 
hence  painfully  threading  our  way  through  the  bowels  of 
Earth's  opposite  hemisphere,  emerge  on  the  shore  of  the 
single  island  dotting  the  vast  Ocean ;  climb  with  toil  the 
Mountain  of  Purgatory,  situate  within  the  Spheres  of  Air  and 
Fire,  and  from  the  Terrestrial  Paradise  on  its  summit  ascend 
through  the  Nine  Heavens :  traversing  thus  all  the  realms 
of  Time  and  Space  till  we  attain  our  final  rest  in  the  all- 
containing,  uncontained,  timeless,  spaceless  Empyrean.  So 


io  The  two  elemental  hemispheres. 

marvellous  in  conception,  so  "perfect  in  order,  so  dazzling 
in  glory,  is  the  Universe  unfolded  to  our  view.  We  proceed 
to  consider  it  in  detail. 

Dante  divides  our  globe  into  two  elemental  hemispheres  : 
the  Eastern,  chiefly  of  land ;  the  Western,  almost  wholly  of 
water.  In  the  midst  of  the  inhabited  Land-hemisphere  he 
places  Jerusalem ;  within  the  same  hemisphere,  so  that  its 
central  and  Hell's  lowest  point  is  exactly  under  Jerusalem, 
he  places  Hell ;  in  the  midst  of  the  uninhabited  Sea-hemi- 
sphere he  places  Purgatory,  as  the  antipodes  to  Jerusalem, 
distant  from  it  by  the  whole  diameter  of  the  globe.  Thus 
on  and  within  the  Earth  are  situated  the  temporal  and  the 
eternal  prison-house  of  sin.  Neither,  in  Dante's  view,  formed 
part  of  God's  original  creation,  wherein  sin  was  not ;  but 
the  fall  of  Lucifer  at  once  produced  the  one  and  prepared 
the  other,  convulsing  and  inverting  the  world  which  God 
had  made.  The  rebel  Seraph  fell  headlong  from  Heaven 
directly  above  the  Western  hemisphere,  till  then  a  conti- 
nent, in  whose  midst  was  Eden ;  and  Earth,  in  the  twofold 
horror  of  his  sight  and  presence,  underwent  a  twofold 
change.  First,  to  veil  her  face,  she  brought  in  upon  her- 
self the  vast  floods  of  the  Eastern  Sea-hemisphere,  trans- 
ferring to  their  place  all  her  dry  land,  save  Eden,  which 
thus  was  left  insulated  in  mid-Ocean.  And  secondly,  to 
escape  his  contact,  as  he  sank  and  sank  through  her  sur- 
face, through  her  bowels,  till  the  middle  of  his  colossal 
frame,  having  reached  the  centre  of  gravity,  remained  there 
fixed  from  the  sheer  physical  impossibility  of  sinking  any 
lower,  she  caused  a  vast  mass  of  her  internal  substance  to 
flee  before  his  face ;  and  leaving  eternally  void  the  space  it 
once  had  occupied  to  form  the  inverted  pit-cone  of  Hell, 


The  elemental  Spheres.     The  Heavens.     1 1 

she  heaved  it  up  directly  under  Eden,  amid  the  new  waste 
of  waters,  to  form  the  towering  mountain-cone  on  whose 
peak  the  Terrestrial  Paradise  should  thenceforth  to  the  end 
of  Time  sit  far  above  all  elemental  strife,  and  whose  sides 
should,  after  the  Redemption  of  Man,  furnish  the  Purgatorial 
stair  whereby  his  foot  might  aspire  once  more  to  tread,  his 
eye  to  contemplate,  his  regained  inheritance. 

Thus  two  Elements,  Earth  and  Water,  hemispherically 
divided,  constitute  the  Sphere  which  forms  the  innermost 
and  immovable  kernel  of  the  Dantesque  Universe.  It  is 
enveloped  by  the  Sphere  of  Air,  subject  to  the  variations  of 
heat  and  cold,  rain  and  drought,  wind  and  tempest,  and 
reaching  up  to  that  particular  point  of  the  Western  Mountain 
where  Ante- Purgatory  ends,  and  the  Gate  of  S.  Peter  admits 
holy  but  still  imperfect  souls  to  Purgatory  proper,  which 
being  situated  within  the  Sphere  of  Fire  or  ^Ether,  is  secure 
from  atmospheric  change. 

Beyond  this  highest  elemental  region  lie  the  Nine  Heav- 
ens, each  alike  a  hollow  revolving  sphere,  enclosing  and 
enclosed.  The  First  Heaven  is  of  the  Moon,  the  Second 
of  Mercury,  the  Third  of  Venus,  the  Fourth  of  the  Sun  (in 
Dante's  time  regarded  as  a  planet),  the  Fifth  of  Mars,  the 
Sixth  of  Jupiter,  the  Seventh  of  Saturn,  the  Eighth  of  the 
Fixed  Stars ;  the  Ninth  is  the  Starless  Crystalline  Heaven  or 
'Primum  Mobile,  which,  itself  the  most  rapid  of  all  in  its 
revolutions,  is  the  root  of  Time  and  Change  throughout 
Creation,  and  the  source  and  measure  of  the  gradually 
slackening  movement  of  all  the  Heavens  within  it.  Without 
it  is  the  Tenth  Heaven,  the  motionless  boundless  Empyrean, 
the  special  dwelling-place  of  the  Most  High  God,  and  the 
eternal  home  of  His  Saints.  These,  arranged  in  the  form 


1 2  The  Nine  Angelic  Orders. 

of  a  Rose,  surround  a  vast  effulgent  Lake,  formed  by  a 
reflection  of  the  Uncreated  Light  on  the  convex  summit  of 
the  Primum  Mobile,  and  so  placed  that  a  right  line  drawn 
downwards  from  its  centre  to  our  globe  would  touch  that 
earthly  Jerusalem,  whose  bud  has  so  wondrously  blossomed 
into  this  Jerusalem  which  is  above. 

Such  is  the  construction  of  the  Dantesque  Universe.  But 
the  scheme  of  natural  and  moral  philosophy  set  forth  in  the  Di- 
vina  Commedia  includes  so  complete  and  complicated  a  theory 
of  Astrology  as  bound  up  with  Cosmology  and  with  the  action 
of  the  Angelic  Orders,  that  I  must,  even  at  the  risk  of  tedious- 
ness,  endeavor  to  give  my  reader  some  insight  into  the  subject. 

Around  the  Divine  Essence,  manifested  in  the  Primum 
Mobile  as  a  luminous  Atomic  Point,  circle  evermore  the 
Nine  Orders  of  Angels,  divided  into  Three  Hierarchies.  The 
first  and  innermost  hierarchy  consists  of  the  Seraphim,  the 
Cherubim,  the  Thrones ;  the  second  of  the  Dominations, 
the  Virtues,  the  Powers ;  the  third  of  the  Principalities,  the 
Archangels,  the  Angels.  The  celestial  hosts  thus  disposed 
are  at  once  passive  and  active.  All  alike,  gazing  on  the 
Divine  Centre,  are  passively  drawn  by  It,  —  the  Seraphim 
immediately,  the  Cherubim  through  the  medium  of  the 
Seraphim,  the  Thrones  through  that  of  the  Cherubim,  and  so 
on,  each  Order  through  that  next  above  it.  And  all  alike, 
as  is  self-evident,  actively  draw  towards  that  same  Centre, 
each  the  Order  next  below  it,  till  finally  the  Angels,  having 
none  lower  of  their  own  nature  to  draw,  draw  mankind. 

This  chain  of  attraction  is,  as  I  conceive,  wholly  moral.  A 
second  chain  of  influence  is  partly  moral  and  partly  material. 

Each  Angelic  Order  moves  the  Heaven  inversely  corre- 
sponding to  it ;  the  Seraphim  as  the  First  Order  move  the 


The  Movers  and  the  Moved.  13 

Ninth  Heaven,  the  Cherubim  as  the  Second  Order  move  the 
Eighth  Heaven,  and  so  on  in  succession  through  all  the  • 
Nine.  But  in  the  mutual  relations  between  the  Circles 
moving  and  the  Circles  moved,  while  velocity  corresponds 
to  velocity,  not  extension  but  intensity  corresponds  to  ex- 
tension. For  two  are  the  centres  :  God  Uncreated,  Infinite, 
Highest ;  Earth  created,  finite,  lowest.  Earth  is  the  centre 
of  the  Heavens ;  —  proximity  to  the  Earth-centre  implies 
contraction  of  circuit  and  slackness  of  motion ;  recession 
from  the  Earth-centre  is  proportionate  approximation  to  the 
manifested  Deity,  and  therefore  implies  expansion  of  circuit 
and  acceleration  of  motion.  But  the  centre  of  the  Angels 
is  God  Most  High,  proximity  to  Whom  implies  the  utmost 
perfection  whereof  the  creature  is  capable.  And  as,  from 
the  very  nature  of  concentric  circles,  such  perfection  cannot 
in  this  case  be  expressed  by  greater  extension  of  circuit,  it 
is  expressed  by  intensity  of  radiance,  and  by  a  velocity  of 
motion  which  decreases  here  for  precisely  the  same  reason 
that  in  the  case  of  the  Heavens  it  increases  with  expansion 
of  circuit,  i.e.,  that  such  expansion  here  implies  recession 
from  the  Divine  Centre  and  approximation  to  Earth. 

The  Universe,  thus  constructed  and  governed,  presents  a 
marvellous  threefold  gradation  and  order  :  —  in  highest  place 
pure  Form  or  Mind  wholly  active,  the  Nine  Angelic  Choirs 
moving  the  Heavens  and  not  moved ;  in  middle  place  Form 
conjoined  with  Matter  both  active  and  passive,  the  Nine 
Heavens  moved  by  the  Angels  and  moving  the  Elements ; 
in  lowest  place  pure  Matter  wholly  passive,  the  Four  Elements 
moved  by  the  Heavens  and  not  moving. 

All  creatures  are  immediately  or  mediately  emanations  of 
the  Mind  and  Will  of  God,  and  impressed  with  His  Light. 


14          Creatures  perfect  and  imperfect. 

Such  as  immediately  proceed  from  Him  are  perfectly  en- 
lightened, immortal,  incorruptible,  and  free,  as  not  subject 
to  powers  which  had  no  share  in  their  formation.  To  this 
perfect  class  belong  not  only  the  Angels  as  pure  Mind,  but 
Man  as  Mind  combined  with  Matter  formed  as  well  as 
created  by  the  hand  of  God  Himself,  so  that  nought  save 
his  own  abuse  of  his  free-will  could  have  disfranchised  him 
of  his  original  nobility,  and  even  in  his  fallen  estate  the 
Heavens,  however  they  may  influence  his  inclinations,  can- 
not force  his  choice.  But  the  Elements  and  the  things 
thereof  compounded,  as  brute  beasts  and  vegetables,  though 
their  matter  was  of  course  created  immediately  by  the 
Almighty,  according  to  this  hypothesis  derive  their  light, 
together  with  their  form  or  animating  principle,  through  the 
interposition  and  influence  of  the  Heavens,  and  are  in  con- 
sequence imperfectly  enlightened,  mortal,  corruptible,  and 
bond ;  albeit  Divine  Providence,  infusing  the  celestial  virtues 
of  informing  and  of  ruling,  infuses  also  those  of  preserv- 
ing and  sustaining  the  dependent  and  subject  elemental 
creatures. 

Manifold  are  the  philosophic  questions  in  whose  answer 
these  theories  will  be  found  more  or  less  involved. 

A  few  notes  respecting  time  are  needed  in  conclusion. 
Dante,  in  accordance  with  S.  Thomas  Aquinas,  but  not  with 
S.  Jerome,  makes  the  creation  of  the  Angels  simultaneous 
with  that  of  the  Universe  :  appealing  for  confirmation  to 
many  passages  of  Holy  Scripture  —  probably,  among  others, 
to  that  adduced  on  this  subject  by  the  Fathers,  '  He  that 
liveth  eternally  created  all  things  together'1  —  and  also  to 

1  Ecclus.  xviii.  i. 


Notes  respecting  time.  1 5 

Reason,  which  cannot  allow  the  Movers  to  have  long  re- 
mained without  their  perfection,  i.e.,  without  aught  to  move. 
The  Fall  of  the  rebel  Angels  he  considers  to  have  taken 
place  within  twenty  seconds  of  their  creation,  and  to  have 
originated  in  the  pride  which  made  Lucifer  unwilling  to 
await  the  time  prefixed  by  his  Maker  for  enlightening  him 
with  perfect  knowledge. 

The  creation  of  Man  would  seem,  in  this  system,  to  have 
been  subsequent  to  the  upheaval  of  Paradise ;  his  expulsion 
thence  was  effected  seven  hours  after  his  location  there. 

At  what  time,  and  by  what  means,  the  dwelling  of  our 
first  parents  or  of  their  posterity  was  transferred  to  the 
Eastern  continent,  Dante,  so  far  as  I  know,  leaves  untold.1 
One  only  instance  previous  to  his  own  pilgrimage  does  he 
imagine  in  which,  after  this  transference,  the  eye  of  living 
man  rested  -on  the  Western  Island-Mountain.  With  this 
singularly  beautiful  narrative  I  close  the  present  chapter : 
the  speaker  is  Ulysses,  suffering  in  Hell  as  an  evil  coun- 
sellor. 

'  When 

From  Circe  I  departed,  who  be}ond 
A  year  withdrew  me  near  Gaeta  there, 
Before  /Eneas  so  had  named  the  place,2 
Neither  son's  sweetness,  nor  the  suffering 

1  The  following  curious  theory  has  been  conversationally  suggested. 
The  Pit  of  Hell  being  vast  enough  to  harbor  so  large  a  number  out  of 
all  generations  of  mankind,  the  Western  Mountain,  consisting  of  the 
earth  thrown  up  from  that  pit,  is  necessarily  of  the  same  proportions, 
and  may  have  sufficed  for  the  dwelling  of  the  entire  race  until  the 
Deluge,  after  which  event  the  Ark  was  providentially  guided  to  deposit 
its  freight  on  Mount  Ararat  in  the  Eastern  Hemisphere. 

2  '  Gaeta,  the  ancient  Cajeta,  is  said  to  have  been  so  named  by  ^E 
after  his  nurse,  who  died  there.' 


1 6     The  transit  to  the  Western  hemisphere. 

Of  mine  old  father,  nor  the  love  so  due 

Which  ought  to  have  made  glad  Penelope, 

Could  quell  in  me  the  ardor  which  I  had 

For  growing  to  be  expert  of  the  world. 

And  of  the  worthiness  and  vice  of  men. 

But  I  set  off  on  the  high  open  sea 

With  one  ship  only,  and  that  little  band 

By  which  I  had  not  been  deserted  yet. 

I  saw  one  shore  and  other  far  as  Spain, 

Far  as  Morocco,  and  the  isle  o'  the  Sards, 

And  others  which  that  sea  bathes  roundabout. 

I  and  my  fellows  we  were  old  and  slow 

When  we  had  come  unto  the  narrow  pass 

Where  Hercules  has  stamped  his  cautionings 

That  man  should  so  proceed  no  further  on : 

On  my  right  left  I  Seville  ;  I  had  left 

Already  Ceuta  on  my  other  hand. 

"  O  brothers,"  said  I,  "ye  that  are  arrived 

Through  hundred-thousand  dangers  to  the  West,  — 

Unto  this  now  so  little  waking-time 

Which  is  remaining  of  your  senses  still 

Endure  not  to  deny  the  experience 

Of  the  unpeopled  world  behind  the  sun. 

Consider  what  is  your  original : 

Ye  were  not  made  that  ye  should  live  like  beasts, 

But  follow  after  virtue  and  the  truth." 

I  with  this  brief  oration  so  did  make 

My  comrades  eager  for  the  journeying 

I  scarce  could  have  retained  them  afterwards. 

And,  having  turned  our  poop  into  the  morn, 

We  made  the  oars  wings  to  the  maddened  flight, 

Toward  the  left  hand  gaining  evermore. 

I  saw  by  night  already  all  the  stars 

Within  the  other  pole,  and  ours  so  low 


Arrival  in  the  Western  hemisphere.        1 7 

It  rose  not  forth  from  the  marine  expanse. 
Five  times  re-kindled  and  as  many  razed 
Had  been  the  light  from  underneath  the  moon 
Since  we  had  entered  in  the  lofty  pass, 
When  a  brown  mountain  there  appeared  to  us 
Upon  the  distance,  and  to  me  it  seemed 
So  lofty  as  I  had  not  witnessed  one. 
We  were  rejoiced,  — and  soon  it  turned  to  dole  ; 
For  there  was  born  a  whirlwind  from  the  new 
Country,  and  struck  the  fore-side  of  the  ship. 
With  all  its  waters  thrice  it  made  her  wheel ; 
The  poop  rise  at  the  fourth  time  uppermore, 
The  prow  go  down,  as  pleased  Another  One, 
Till  over  us  again  the  sea  was  closed.' 

Inf.  xxvi.  90-142. 


CHAPTER  III. 
DANTE'S   LIFE-EXPERIENCE. 

Nel  mezzo  del  cammin  di  nostra  vita. 
In  midway  of  the  journey  of  our  life. 

Inf.  i.  i. 

LET  us  now  inquire  what  he  was,  who,  born,  as  he  be- 
lieved, into  an  universe  in  the  main  so  constructed 
and  so  governed,  lived  in  it  fifty-six  years,  and  departed  not 
till  he  had  tracked  a  path  to  aid  future  generations  safely 
to  work  their  way  from  its  lowest  to  its  highest  sphere  :  — 
what  she  was,  at  whose  prompting  he  began,  by  whose 
guidance  he  completed  the  pilgrimage  wherein  he  gained 
his  own  experience  of  that  path.  Not  that  this  latter  inquiry 
can  be  answered  as  confidently  as  the  former.  The 
Beatrice  of  Dante  remains  to  this  day  the  perplexity  of 
scholars  and  of  commentators,  some  regarding  her  as  a 
personage  from  first  to  last  purely  allegorical.  I  adopt  the 
view  of  Boccaccio  and  the  majority. 

Dante  Allighieri  was  born  at  Florence  in  May,  1265,  of 
a  noble  family  adhering  to  the  Guelph  party.  When  nearly 
nine  years  old  he  was  taken  by  his  father  to  a  festival  held 
at  the  house  of  Folco  Portinari.  He  there  beheld  his  host's 
daughter ;  and  this  first  great  event  of  his  conscious  life, 
coloring  all  its  after  course,  he  himself  thus  narrates  : 

1  Nine  times  already  since  my  birth  had  the  Heaven  of 


D  antes  first  sight  of  Beatrice.  1 9 

Light1  returned  almost  to  the  same  point  in  respect  of  its. 
own  gyration,  when  there  first  appeared  to  my  eyes  the 
glorious  Lady  of  my  mind :  who  was  called  Beatrice  by 
many  who  knew  not  what  she  was  called.  She  had  already 
been  so  long  in  this  life  as  that,  within  her  time,  the  Starry 
Heaven  had  moved  towards  the  eastern  part  one  of  the 
twelve  parts  of  a  degree  :  so  that  almost  at  the  beginning 
of  her  ninth  year  she  appeared  to  me,  and  I  saw  her  almost 
at  the  end  of  my  ninth  year.  And  she  appeared  to  me 
clothed  in  a  most  noble  color,  a  subdued  and  decorous 
crimson ;  girdled  and  adorned  in  such  wise  as  was  suitable 
to  her  most  youthful  age.  ...  I  say  that  thenceforward  Love 
swayed  my  soul,  which  was  even  then  espoused  to  him ;  and 
began  to  assume  over  me  so  great  and  so  assured  a  lord- 
ship, empowered  thereto  in  virtue  of  my  imagination,  that 
I  must  needs  perform  to  the  full  all  his  pleasures.  He 
oftentimes  commanded  me  to  seek  to  behold  this  youngest 
Angel ;  wherefore  I  in  my  boyhood  many  times  sought  her 
out,  and  saw  her  so  noble  and  laudable  in  bearing,  that 
certes  of  her  might  be  spoken  that  word  of  the  poet  Homer  : 
She  appeared  not  to  be  made  by  any  mortal  man,  but  by 
God.  And  albeit  her  image,  which  abode  with  me  continu- 
ally, were  the  triumphant  strength  of  Love  to  sway  me ;  yet 
was  it  of  so  exceeding  noble  virtue,  that  it  did  at  no  time  suffer 
Love  to  rule  me  without  theA  faithful  counsel  of  Reason  in 
those  things  wherein  such  counsel  was  useful  to  be  heard.' 2 

At  ten  years  old  he  lost  his  father ;  but  this  did  not  inter- 
rupt the  course  of  his  most  careful  and  liberal  education. 
Before  he  was  quite  eighteen  he  wrote  his  first  sonnet,  in- 
spired by  an  incident  which  he  thus  records  : 

1  *'.  e.  the  Heaven  of  the  Sun,  or  Fourth  Heaven.     2  Vita  Nuova  ii. 


2O     Beatrice  salutes  Dante.     Her  marriage. 

'When  so  many  days  had  passed  as  exactly  completed 
nine  years  from  the  above-written  appearance  of  this  most 
gracious  creature,  on  the  last  of  the  days  it  happened  that 
this  marvellous  lady  appeared  to  me,  clothed  in  purest 
white,  between  two  gentle  ladies,  who  were  more  advanced 
in  age ;  and  passing  through  a  street  she  turned  her  eyes 
towards  the  place  where  I  stood  greatly  abashed,  and,  of 
her  ineffable  courtesy  whose  merit  is  now  recompensed  in 
the  other  world,  she  saluted  me  so  virtuously  that  I  seemed 
then  to  behold  the  utmost  limits  of  beatitude.  The  hour 
wherein  her  sweetest  salutation  reached  me  was  assuredly 
the  ninth  of  that  day ;  and  whereas  that  was  the  first  time 
that  her  words  went  forth  to  come  to  my  ears,  I  sucked  in 
such  sweetness  that  as  one  inebriated  I  departed  from  the 
people.' * 

There  is  no  reason  to  believe  that  Dante  ever  sought 
Beatrice  in  marriage,  nor  any  distinct  indication  that  she  so 
much  as  knew  of  the  pure,  lofty,  ideal  love  she  had  inspired. 
The  very  early  age  at  which  Florentine  fathers  affianced 
their  daughters  makes  it  not  impossible  that  even  before 
her  ninth  year  she  was  engaged  to  that  Simon  de'  Bardi 
whose  wife,  at  the  age  of  twenty,  she  became.  Dante  never 
alludes  to  her  marriage,  though  he  thus  touchingly  records 
her  father's  death  in  1288,  and  his  own  sympathy  in  her 
grief — a  sympathy  doubtless  all  the  deeper  from  his  per- 
sonal experience  of  the  like  irreparable  loss,  and  further 
quickened  by  the  virtues  of  the  dead,  whose  last  years  had 
been  hallowed  by  the  building  and  opening  of  a  hospital 
somewhat  strangely  characterized  at  the  time  as  '  the  column 
of  the  state.' 2 

1  Vita  Nuova  iii.      2  Ferrazzi,  Manuale  Dantesco,  vol.  ii.  pp.  21,  22. 


Death  of  Folco  Portinari  and  of  Beatrice.     2 1 

'.  .  .  As  it  pleased  that  Glorious  Lord,  Who  denied  not 
death  to  Himself,  he  who  had  been  the  father  of  so  great  a 
marvel  as  was  manifestly  this  most  noble  Beatrice,  going 
forth  of  this  life  departed  in  very  truth  to  eternal  glory. 
I  Wherefore,  inasmuch  as  such  parting  is  painful  to  those 
that  remain,  and  have  been  friends  of  him  that  departeth ; 
and  no  friendship  is  there  so  intimate  as  that  of  a  good 
father  for  a  good  child,  or  of  a  good  child  for  a  good  father ; 
and  this  lady  was  good  in  the  highest  degree,  and  her 
father  (as  is  by  many  believed,  and  as  is  true)  was  good  in 
a  high  degree,  it  is  manifest  that  this  lady  was  most  bitterly 
full  of  grief.'  * 

But  ere  very  long  he  who  had  mourned  with  her  was  called 
to  mourn  yet  more  sorely  for  her :  first  in  prophetic  vision  of 
her  death-chamber,  then  in  agonizing  reality.  In  1290,  at 
the  age  of  twenty- four,  Beatrice  died. 

'The  Lord  of  this  most  gracious  creature,  that  is  the 
Lord  of  Justice,  called  this  noble  being  to  the  life  of  glory 
under  the  standard  of  that  blessed  queen  Mary,  whose  name 
was  in  greatest  reverence  in  the  words  of  this  beatified 
Beatrice.' 2 

He  proceeds  to  relate  various  incidents,  taking  place  as  it 
would  seem  within  the  two  years  and  a  half  following  her 
death  :  the  most  prominent  of  these  is  his  strong  temporary 
.attraction  towards  an  unnamed  lady  descried  gazing  at  him 
through  a  window,  and  touching  his  feelings  first  by  her 
evident  sympathy  in  his  grief,  afterwards  by  her  personal 
qualities.  And  here  meets  us  one  of  the  most  intricate 
of  Dantesque  perplexities.  In  the  Vita  Nuova 3  he  charac- 
terizes this  attraction  or  propensity  as  the  'adversary  of 

1   Vita  Nuffva  xxii.  2  U.  xxix.  8  Ib,  xl. 


22      Dante  seeks  consolation  in  Philosophy. 

Reason,'  describes  it  as  beset  even  while  it  lasted  with  mis- 
givings and  struggles,  and  relates  how  it  was  finally  subdued 
by  a  '  strong  imagination '  of  Beatrice,  in  guise  like  to  that 
wherein  he  had  first  beheld  her,  a  child  in  her  ninth  year 
habited  in  crimson.  Yet  in  the  Convito,  in  language  whose 
directness  it  seems  impossible  to  evade,  he  declares  the 
lady  of  whom  he  became  enamoured  after  his  first  love,  and 
who  by  a  previous  passage  1  is  identified  with  the  '  lady  of 
the  window,'  to  have  been  'the  most  beautiful  and  most 
noble  daughter  of  the  Emperor  of  the  Universe,  to  whom 
Pythagoras  gave  the  name  of  Philosophy.'2  In  most 
touching  words  he  relates  how  Philosophy  became  his  con- 
solation :  '  I  say  that  as  by  me  was  lost  the  first  delight  of 
my  soul,  of  whom  mention  is  made  above,  I  remained 
pierced  with  such  sadness  that  no  comfort  availed  me. 
Nevertheless,  after  a  while  my  mind,  which  sought  out  how 
to  be  healed,  bethought  itself  (since  neither  my  own  nor 
others'  consoling  availed)  to  recur  to  the  mode  whereby 
some  mourner  had  aforetime  found  consolation.  And  I 
set  myself  to  read  that  book,  not  known  to  many,  of 
Boethius,  wherein  he,  captive  and  downfallen,  had  consoled 
himself.  And  hearing  also  that  Tullius  had  written  another 
book,  wherein,  treating  of  friendship,  he  had  spoken  by  the 
way  of  the  consolation  of  Laelius,  a  man  most  excellent, 
concerning  the  death  of  Scipio  his  friend,  I  set  myself  to 
read  that.  And  though  it  were  hard  to  me  at  first  to  enter 
into  their  purport,  at  length  I  entered  as  far  within  it  as  the 
art  of  grammar  which  I  possessed  and  a  little  of  my  intellect 
could  do ;  by  which  intellect  many  things,  as  in  a  dream,  I 
saw  already ;  as  in  the  Vita  Nuova  may  be  seen.  And  as 

1   Conv.  ii.  2.  '2  Ib,  ii.  16. 


of  the  Window  is 

it  often  falls  out  that  a  man  goes  in  search  of  silver,  and 
beyond  his  intent  finds  gold  which  some  hidden  cause 
points  out,  not  perhaps  without  divine  overruling;  I,  who 
sought  to  console  me,  found  not  only  a  remedy  for  my  tears, 
but  words  of  authors  and  of  science  and  of  books  ;  which 
considering,  I  assuredly  judged  that  Philosophy,  who  was 
the  lady  of  these  authors,  of  these  sciences,  and  of  these 
books,  was  a  thing  exceeding  high.  And  I  imagined  her  in 
form  like  unto  a  noble  lady ;  nor  could  I  imagine  her  in  any 
attitude  save  one  of  commiseration;  wherefore  so  fain  was 
the  sense  in  truth  to  gaze  upon  her,  that  scarcely  could  I 
turn  it  aside  from  her.  And  passing  beyond  this  imagining 
I  began  to  go  where  she  showed  herself  in  very  truth,  that 
is,  into  the  schools  of  the  Religious,  and  to  the  disputations 
of  philosophers ;  so  that  in  brief  space,  perhaps  of  thirty 
months,  I  began  to  feel  so  much  of  her  sweetness,  that  her 
love  expelled  and  destroyed  every  other  thought.' 1 

How  is  so  astounding  a  discrepancy  to  be  accounted 
for?  How  could  such  a  propensity  as  this  be  the  adversary 
of  Reason?  or  the  'strong  imagination'  of  Beatrice,  for 
whom  her  lover's  affection,  even  in  childhood  and  earliest 
youth,  had  never  been  without  the  counsel  of  Reason,  have 
the  effect  of  subduing  such  a  propensity?  I  would  observe 
first,  that  we  have  not  the  whole  of  the  Convito ;  fourteen 
Canzoni  with  their  comment  were  planned  by  Dante,2  three 
only,  alas  !  were  written ;  and  of  course  it  is  possible  that 
the  mystery  was  to  be  cleared  up  as  the  work  proceeded. 
Secondly,  with  very  great  diffidence  I  venture  to  hint  at  a 
solution  which  seems  to  me  not  inconsistent  with  either  of 
the  conflicting  statements,  nor  yet  with  this  additional  start- 

1    Coin-,  ii    13.  2  ib.  i.  I. 


24     Argument  respecting  Lady  of  the  Window. 

ling  fact  —  that  in  the  Commedia  Beatrice  is  herself  invested 
with  the  attributes  of  that  wisdom  which  is  asserted  in  the 
Convito  to  be  the  body  of  Philosophy.1  It  appears,  then, 
that  the  effect  of  this  philosophic  propensity  was  so  to  en- 
gross Dante's  mind  as  actually  and  increasingly  to  supersede 
the  thought  of  his  lost  treasure,2  and  the  at  first  prominent 
consolation  of  dwelling  on  her  celestial  bliss.8  It  appears 
also,  from  certain  passages  of  the  Purgatorio  hereafter  to  be 
read  in  their  proper  place,4  that  this  period  of  his  life  was 
one  of  more  or  less  sensual  gratification  and  earthly  aim. 
Hence  it  seems  natural  to  infer  that  his  Philosophy  was  at 
this  stage  of  a  theoretical  rather  than  of  a  practical  char- 
acter ;  and  if  so,  in  a  most  true  though  limited  sense  might 
it  be  termed  the  adversary  of  Reason,  as  all  will  testify  who 
have  experienced  the  lulling  spell  of  an  intellectual  and 
sensitive  delight  in  good  running  parallel  with  a  voluntary 
and  actual  indulgence  in  evil.  May  it  not  be  that  after 
many  alternations  of  struggling  and  succumbing  despite  his 
better  self  and  his  sage  maxims,  a  most  vivid  sense  of  pollu- 
tion and  of  peril,  aided  by  a  sudden  strong  imagination  of 
Beatrice,  came  upon  him ;  and  that  as  entranced  he  gazed 
on  her  glorified  loveliness  he  instinctively  identified  with 
her  his  Philosophy  already  transfigured,  potent  not  only 
now  to  charm  and  soothe,  potent  to  rule ;  to  the  Intellect 
a  light,  to  the  Affections  a  compass  and  a  balance,  a  sceptre 
over  the  Will  ?  From  the  moment  of  this  inward  impression 
we  notice  that  no  more  is  heard  of  the  lady  of  the  window, 
who  seems  thus  to  occupy  in  the  Vita  Nuova  a  position 
somewhat  analogous  to  that  of  Virgil  in  the  Commedia :  she 

1  Conv.  iii.  15.       -?Wita  Nuova  xxxviii,  xxxix.         8  Conv.  ii.  10. 
4  Pur.  xxiii.  115-118,  xxx.  55-144,  xxxl  1-90. 


Conclusion  of  Vita  Nuova.    Dante  marries.    25 

representing  the  speculative  pleasures  and  consolations,  he 
the  moral  laws  and  suasions  of  Philosophy.  He  too  will  in 
turn  vanish  from  before  the  face  of  Beatrice,  not  as  counter- 
acted, but  as  included  and  transcended;  her  presence 
waited  on  no  less  by  his  human  than  by  her  own  super- 
human Virtues.  Thus  in  her  one  person  are  finally  con- 
centrated all  nobleness,  all  beauty,  and  all  rectitude  of 
Nature  and  of  Grace. 

Whether  or  not  this  theory  can  be  sustained,  it  is  certain 
that  in  renewed  and  perpetual  allegiance  to  his  First-Beloved 
he  signs  and  seals  his  Vita  Nuova : 

* ...  There  appeared  to  me  a  marvellous  vision  wherein 
I  saw  things,  which  made  me  resolve  to  say  no  more  of 
this  blessed  one  until  I  could  more  worthily  treat  of  her. 
And  to  come  to  this  I  study  as  much  as  I  can,  as  she 
knows  in  truth.  So  that,  if  it  shall  be  the  pleasure  of  Him 
by  Whom  all  things  live  that  my  life  shall  last  somewhat 
longer,  I  hope  to  say  of  her  that  which  has  never  been  said 
of  any.  And  may  it  then  please  Him,  Who  is  the  Lord  of 
courtesy,  that  my  soul  may  go  to  behold  the  glory  of  its 
lady,  that  is,  that  blessed  Beatrice  who  gloriously  gazes  on 
the  face  of  Him  who  is  blessed  throughout  all  ages. 
PRAISE  TO  GOD.'1 

In  1291  Dante  was  persuaded  by  his  friends  to  espouse 
Gemma  Donati.  She  bore  him  seven  children  before  his 
exile ;  after  it  he  never  saw  her  again. 

So  far  his  private  life ;  during  which,  by  profound  and 
extensive  studies  both  in  Divine  and  human  science,  by  the 
exercise  of  all  graceful  arts  and  accomplishments,  and  by 
the  teaching  of  inward  experience,  he  was  forming  and 

1  Vita  Nuova  xliii. 


26        Origin  of  Guelphs  and  Ghibellines. 

deepening  the   character  afterwards    to  be   manifested   in 
public  life. 

Public  life  at  that  period  throughout  Italy,  and  especially 
in  Florence,  to  all  who  took  a  prominent  and  energetic 
part,  was  thorny  indeed.  The  main  distinction  was  that 
between  Ghibellines  and  Guelphs  —  two  names  in  their  ori- 
gin far  removed  from  Italy.  They  were  first  heard  in  Ger- 
many in  1140,  when  at  Winsberg  in  Suabia  a  battle  was 
fought  between  two  contending  claimants  of  the  Empire ; 
the  one,  Conrad  of  Hohenstauffen,  Duke  of  Franconia, 
chose  for  his  battle-cry  Waiblingen,  the  name  of  his  patri- 
monial castle  in  Wiirtemberg;  the  other,  Henry  the  Lion, 
Duke  of  Saxony,  chose  his  own  family  name  of  Welf,  or 
Wolf.  Conrad  proved  victorious,  and  his  kindred  to  the 
fourth  ensuing  generation  occupied  the  imperial  throne ; 
yet  both  war-cries  survived  the  contest  which  gave  them 
birth,  lingering  on  in  Germany  as  equivalents  of  Imperial- 
ist and  anti-  Imperialist.  By  a  process  perfectly  clear  to 
philologists,  they  were  modified  in  Italy  into  the  forms 
Ghibellino  and  Guelfo;  and  the  Popes  being  there  the 
great  opponents  of  the  Emperors,  an  Italian  Guelph  was 

!    a   Papalist.     The    cities  were    mainly  Guelph ;    the   nobles 

i  most  frequently  Ghibelline. 

A  private  feud  had  been  the  means  of  involving  Florence 
in  the  contest.  In  1215 — just  three  quarters  of  a  century 
after  the  victory  of  Conrad  —  Buondelmonte  de'  Buondel- 
monti,  a  young  nobleman  affianced  to  a  maiden  of  the 
Amidei,  broke  his  troth  and  married  one  of  the  Donati. 
The  Amidei  revenged  themselves  by  his  assassination.  The 
Emperor  Frederick  II.,  fourth  of  the  House  of  Suabia,  took 
their  part,  and  the  feud  once  kindled  burned  on  and  spread. 


Whites  and  Blacks.     D ante  a  Prior e.      27 

But  —  the  Ghibelline  party  having  been  expelled  from 
Florence  —  this  was  not  the  discord  with  which  Dante,  on 
his  accession  to  office,  would  have  to  deal.  The  Guelph 
party  was  split  into  two  factions  —  the  Black  and  the  White, 
also  taking  their  rise  in  a  private  quarrel,  originating  towards 
the  end  of  the  thirteenth  century,  not  in  Florence,  but  in 
Pistoja.  A  rich  merchant  of  that  place,  named  Cancellieri, 
had  married  in  succession  two  wives,  whose  respective 
children  went  by  the  names  of  Whites  and  Blacks ;  names 
which  afforded  a  too  convenient  distinction  when,  in  conse- 
quence of  a  gambling  dispute,  their  descendants  became  in- 
volved in  deadly  feud.  The  Florentine  family  of  the  Cerchi 
sided  with  the  Whites,  the  Donati  with  the  Blacks ;  hence 
multiplied  dissensions,  involving  wellnigh  the  whole  city. 

As  early  as  in  1289  Dante  had,  at  the  battle  of  Campal- 
dino  and  the  siege  of  Caprona,  borne  arms  as  a  Guelph  in 
civil  war.  In  1295  he  became  a  member  of  the  Special 
Council  of  the  Republic,  consisting  of  eighty  of  the  best 
and  most  influential  citizens,  and  in  1300,  at  the  age  of 

thirty-five, 

In  midway  of  the  journey  of  his  life, 

was  elected  one  of  the  six  Priori  (chief  magistrates  of  his  city) 
for  the  months  of  June  and  July.  We  shall  see  in  the  next 
chapter  what  view  he  took  of  the  moral  state  of  Italy,  and 
especially  of  Florence,  at  the  time  of  his  election.  Suffice 
it  here  to  say  that  during  his  brief  tenure  of  office  he 
concurred  with  his  colleagues  in  banishing  to  Sarzana  the 
heads  of  the  White,  to  Perugia  those  of  the  Black  faction. 
But  the  following  year  the  Whites  were  recalled  by  the 
State ;  the  Blacks,  breaking  their  ban,  returned  of  them- 
selves, and  by  intrigue  secured,  for  the  so-called  pacifica- 


28     Dante  accused,  condemned  and  banished. 

tion  of  Florence,  the  intervention  of  Charles  de  Valois 
(brother  of  Philippe  le  Bel) ,  then  travelling  towards  Rome 
in  his  way  to  the  hoped-for  conquest  of  Sicily.  The  wiser 
members  of  the  Government,  seeing  through  the  specious 
scheme  of  the  Blacks,  sent  Dante  with  three  others  on 
an  embassy  to  Pope  Boniface  VIII.,  whose  veto  would 
have  nullified  the  transaction ;  —  but  the  prolonged  delay  in 
obtaining  that  veto  gave  the  supporters  of  the  Pacificator 
ample  leisure  so  to  treat  Florence  that,  as  historians  agree, 
less  evil  befalls  a  city  taken  by  assault. 

On  the  news  of  these  oppressions  reaching  Rome,  Dante 
hurried  homewards,  but  only  to  find  his  house  pillaged  and 
burned,  and  himself  accused  of  undue  partiality  to  the 
Whites  both  during  and  after  his  tenure  of  office.  Sum- 
moned to  answer  a  charge  of  peculation,  he  was  not  even 
allowed  time  to  .appear,  but  was  in  January,  1302,  con- 
demned, as  contumacious,  to  a  heavy  fine ;  and  finally,  in 
March,  to  perpetual  banishment,  under  pain  of  being 
burned  alive  should  he  again  be  found  in  his  native  city. 

From  this  time  forth,  forsaking  the  Guelph  party  alto- 
gether, Dante  was  a  Ghibelline.  One  by  one  possibilities  of 
return  seemed  to  arise  ;  one  by  one  they  failed.  In  March, 
1304,  while  he  was  at  Arezzo,  the  recently-elected  Pope 
Benedict  XI.  sent  Cardinal  da  Prato  on  a  pacific  mission  to 
Florence,  but  the  attempt  was  unsuccessful,  and  four 
months  later  the  ambassador  quitted  the  city,  laying  it 
under  an  interdict.  In  July  of  the  same  year  a  military 
effort  of  the  Poet's  fellow-exiles  proved  most  disastrous,  and 
he  transferred  his  residence  to  Bologna.  In  1312  took  place 
the  celebrated  Italian  enterprise  of  the  Emperor  Henry  of 
Luxemburg,  and  Dante's  hopes  were  excited  to  the  utmost : 


Dante  rejects  the  amnesty.  29 

but  yet  again  they  were  doomed  to  bitter  disappointment  by 
the  sudden  death  of  that  illustrious  Prince. 

In  1316  the  State  of  Florence  did  indeed  publish  an  am- 
nesty from  which  Dante  was  not  excepted,  but  his  return 
was  made  conditional  on  payment  of  a  fine,  and  submission 
to  a  public  acknowledgment  of  criminality :  and  here  is  a 
portion  of  his  answer,  conveyed  in  a  Latin  epistle  to  a 
Religious,  who  seems  to  have  been  his  kinsman :  —  ' 

'  Is  this  then  the  glorious  fashion  of  Dante  Allighieri's 
recall  to  his  country,  after  suffering  exile  for  wellnigh  three 
lustres?  Is  this  the  due  recompense  of  his  innocence  mani- 
fest to  all?  This  the  fruit  of  his  abundant  sweat  and  toil 
endured  in  study  ?  Far  from  the  man  of  Philosophy's 
household  this  baseness  proper  to  a  heart  of  mire,  that  he, 
in  the  manner  of  any  sciolist  and  other  infamous  person, 
should  endure  as  a  prisoner  to  be  put  to  ransom  !  Far 
from  the  Proclaimer  of  Justice  that  he,  offended  and  insulted, 
to  his  offenders,  as  to  those  who  have  deserved  well  of  him, 
should  pay  tribute  !  This,  Father,  is  not  the  way  to  return 
to  my  country :  but  if  by  you  or  by  another  there  can  be 
found  another  way  that  shall  not  derogate  from  Dante's  fame 
and  honor,  readily  will  I  thereto  betake  myself.  But  if  by 
no  honorable  way  can  entrance  be  found  into  Florence, 
there  will  I  never  enter.  What  ?  Can  I  not  from  any  cor- 
ner of  the  earth  behold  the  sun  and  the  stars  ?  Can  I  not 
under  every  climate  of  heaven  meditate  the  all-sweet  truths, 
except  I  first  make  myself  a  man  of  no  glory,  but  rather  of 
ignominy  in  the  face  of  the  people  and  city  of  Florence  ? ' 

Thus  nobly  and  immovably  resolved,  he  never  again  be- 
held his  native  land,  but  at  one  petty  Ghibelline  court  after 
another  alternated  between  his  own  Sphere  of  Air  and 
Sphere  of  Fire.  Bitter  indeed  was  his  experience  of  what 


30  Dante  dies  in  exile. 

he  so  touchingly,  by  the  mouth  of  his  ancestor  Cacciaguida, 
describes  as  his  coming  fate  : 

Thou  shalt  abandon  everything  beloved 
Most  tenderly,  and  this  the  arrow  is 
Which  first  the  bow  of  banishment  shoots  forth. 

Thou  shalt  have  proof  how  savoreth  of  salt 
The  bread  of  others,  and  how  hard  a  row 
The  going  down  and  up  another's  stairs. 

And  that  which  most  shall  weigh  upon  thy  shoulders 
Will  be  the  bad  and  foolish  company 
With  which  into  this  valley  thou  shalt  fall. 

Par.  xvn.  55-63. 

And  yet,  when  enraptured  and  enrapturing  he  uttered  his 
unearthly  Commedia,  he  was  as  one  already  swallowed  up 
in  Infinity  and  Eternity.  Can  these  words,  written  as  in 
the  Starry  Heaven,  mean  less? 

The  threshing-floor  that  maketh  us  so  proud, 
To  me  revolving  with  the  eternal  Twins, 
Was  all  apparent  made  from  hill  to  harbor  ! 

Par.  xxii.  151-153. 

So  Dante  Allighieri  lived,  so  suffered,  and  so  wrought ;  till 
in  1321,  at  Ravenna,  under  the  protection  of  Count  Guido 
Novello  da  Polenta,»in  his  fifty-seventh  year,  by  means  of 
a  fever,  he  passed,  we  fervently  hope,  into  the  full,  final,  and 
blessed  realization  of  those  things  whereof,  for  our  endless 
good,  he  had  so  long  and  so  earnestly  testified. 

Dante  dates  his  supernatural  pilgrimage  as  taking  place 
A.D.  1300;  his  great  poem  must  therefore  be  read  as  historic 
in  all  events  antecedent  to  that  date,  prophetic  in  all  subse- 
quent. Yet,  in  fact,  historic  in  all.  The  Vita  Nuova,  the 
work  as  well  as  the  record  of  early  life,  has  the  soft  delicacy 
of  Dante's  youthful  face  portrayed  by  Giotto ;  but  the  Divina 


D  antes  youthful  portrait ;  his  death-mask.    3 1 

Commedia,  whether  professedly  narrating  the  past  or  the 
future,  is  throughout  impressed  with  the  deeper,  sterner, 
sadder  lines  to  be  traced  in  his  solemn  death-mask.1 

1  The  authenticity  of  this  death-mask  was  lately  confirmed  in  a 
singular  manner.  In  the  sepulchral  chapel  of  Braccioforte,  contiguous 
to  the  tomb  of  Dante  at  Ravenna,  was  discovered,  on  the  27th  May, 
1865,  a  box  containing  human  bones,  with  an  inscription  declaring 
them  to  be  the  bones  of  Dante,  placed  there  on  the  i8th  October,  1677, 
by  Antonio  Santi,  a  Franciscan  friar.  To  his  Order  the  honor  of  the 
great  poet's  sepulture  originally  belonged ;  and  his  motive  for  remov- 
ing the  bones  to  a  receptacle  known  only  to  himself,  and  perhaps  a 
few  others,  appears  to  have  been  dread  lest  the  Municipality  of  Ra- 
venna should  make  good  a  repeatedly-urged  claim  against  the  Friars 
to  jurisdiction  over  the  tomb.  In  that  secret  shelter  the  precious 
relics  lay  hidden  till  discovered  as  above  related.  The  most  careful 
and  scientific  investigation  by  the  Government  verified  them  so  far  as 
possible  as  the  bones  of  Dante  Allighieri.  The  mask  was  found  to 
correspond  in  many  important  parts  to  the  head  of  the  skeleton. 
The  cavity  of  the  cranium  being  filled  with  rice,  the  weight  of  this 
was  ascertained  to  be  1420  grammes.  [Professor  Huxley  states  that 
the  heaviest  brain  weighed  by  Professor  Wagner  —  that  of  a  woman 
—  amounted  to  1872  grammes;  next  to  it  comes  the  brain  of  Cuvier 
(1861  grammes),  then  Byron  (1807  grammes),  and  then  an  insane  per- 
son (1783  grammes) :  the  lightest  adult  brain  recorded  (720  grammes) 
was  that  of  an  idiotic  female.]  Without  committing  themselves  to 
the  science  of  phrenology,  the  learned  examiners  record  the  following 
observations  on  the  skull :  —  Very  noticeable  are  the  osseous  regions 
connected  with  the  organs  of  poetry,  music,  satire,  religion,  benevo- 
lence, and  those  which  indicate  love  of  autl»ority  and  independence, 
self-esteem,  pride,  loftiness  of  spirit,  self-love ;  those  also  which  are 
connected  with  the  mechanical  talents  of  drawing,  sculpture,  and 
architecture.  There  is  a  notable  development  of  the  parts  corre- 
sponding to  the  organs  of  circumspection  and  caution.  The  char- 
acteristics of  a  philosophic  mind  show  themselves ;  such  a  mind  as 
possesses  in  an  eminent  degree  the  inductive  faculty,  the  habit  of  pon- 
dering great  matters,  the  aptitude  of  discovering  the  most  abstract  and 
remote  relations  between  things  —  in  sum,  the  organization  is  that  of 
those  universal  geniuses  who  have  been  the  true  teachers  of  the  human 
race.  (Relazione  della  Commissione  Governativa  eletta  a  verificare  il 
fatto  del  ritrovamento  delle  Ossa  di  Dante  in  Ravenna.  Firenze,  1865.) 


CHAPTER   IV. 
THE  WOOD,  AND  THE  APPARITION  OF  VIRGIL. 

Questa  selva  selvaggia  ed  aspra  e  forte. 

What  this  wood  was,  savage,  and  rough,  and  strong. 

Jnf.i.3. 

TN  A.  D.  1300,  the  year  of  the  Jubilee ;  at  dawn  on  the 
-*-  25th  of  March,  the  Feast  of  the  Annunciation,  then 
reckoned  as  New  Year's  Day,  and  happening  that  year  to 
be  also  Maundy  Thursday;  Dante,  then  nearly  thirty-five, 
and  approaching  the  time  of  his  election  to  the  Priorato, 
perceived  himself  to  have  wandered  while  half  asleep  from 
the  right  path,  and  to  be  actually  entangled  in  the  mazes  of 
a  dark  wood.  Before  him  rose  a  hill  whose  sides  were 
clothed  with  sunshine ;  but  no  man  walked  thereon.  Dante 
took  courage  to  begin  the  ascent,  and  had  made  some  little 
progress  in  climbing,  the  lower  foot  being  ever  the  firmer, 
when  he  found  himself  successively  withstood  and  repelled 
by  three  wild  beasts,  ^  swift  Leopard,  a  raging  Lion,  and  a 
craving  greedy ,  Wolf.  These,  but  chiefly  the  last,  were 
gradually  and  irresistibly  forcing  «him  back  upon  the  sun- 
less plain,  when  suddenly  he  became  aware  that  he  was  no 
longer  alone. 

While  I  was  crushing  down  to  the  low  place, 
To  me  was  offered  one  before  mine  eyes 
Who  seemed  by  reason  of  long  silence  hoarse. 


•'4/**- 

Dante  seeks  aid  from  Virgil.  33 

In  the  great  desert  him  when  I  beheld 
'  Have  pity  upon  me  !  '  I  cried  to  him, 

*  Who  that  thou  be,  or  Shade,  or  certain  man.* 

He  answered  me  :  '  Not  man  :  man  once  I  was  ; 

Also  my  parents  were  Lombardi'ans, 

Mantuans  as  to  country  both  the  two. 

Sub  Julio  was  I  born,  although  'twere  late, 

And  under  good  Augustus  lived  in  Rome, 

In  the  time  of  the  false  and  lying  gods. 

I  was  a  poet,  and  I  sang  that  just 

Son  of  Anchises  who  did  come  from  Troy, 

After  that  haughty  I  lion  had  been  burned. 

But  why  to  such  annoy  returnest  thou  ? 

Wherefore  not  scale  the  delectable  mount 

Which  of  all  joy  is  cause  and  principle  ?  ' 

*  Art  thou  that  Virgil,  then,  that  fountain-head 
Which  spreads  abroad  so  wide  a  stream  of  speech  ?  ' 
Replied  I  to  him  with  a  brow  ashamed. 

4  O  of  the  other  poets  honor  and  light, 

Avail  me  the  long  study  and  great  love 

Which  have  impelled  me  search  thy  volume  through  ! 

My  master  thou,  and  thou  mine  author  art  : 

Thou  only  art  the  one  from  whom  I  took 

The  noble  style  which  won  me  honoring. 

Behold  the  beast  because  of  which  I  turned  : 

Do  thou  against  her  help  me,  famous  sage, 

Because  she  makes  me  tremble,  veins  and  pulse.' 


'  Thee  it  behooves  to  hold  another  course, 
He  answered,  after  that  he  saw  me  weep, 
*  If  thou  would'  st  get  from  out  this  savage 


34      Virgil  proposes  the  threefold  Pilgrimage. 

v_ _^^  •  — —— 

Whence  I,  for  thy  more  good,  think  and  discern 
Thou  follow  me  :  and  I  will  be  thy  guide, 
And  bring  thee  hence  by  an  eternal  place  ; 
Where  thou  shalt  hearken  the  despairing  shrieks, 
Shalt  see  the  ancient  Spirits  dolorous, 
That  each  one  outcries  for  the  second  death. 

,  And  thou  shalt  then  see  those  who  are  content 

|  Within  the  fire,  because  they  hope  to  come, 

\  When  that  it  be,  unto  the  blessed  race. 

'  To  whom  thereafter  if  thou  wouldst  ascend, 
A  Soul  there  '11  be  more  worthy  this  than  I : 
Thee  will  I  leave  with  her,  when  I  depart : 
Seeing  that  Emperor  Who  above  there  rules, 
Because  I  was  rebellious  to  His  law, 
Wills  to  His  city  no  access  by  me. 
In  every  part  He  sways,  and  there  He  reigns : 
There  is  His  city,  and  the  exalted  seat. 
Oh  happy  he  whom  thither  He  elects ! ' 

And  I  to  him  :  *  Poet,  I  crave  of  thee, 

And  by  that  God  of  Whom  thou  knewest  not, 

That  I  may  flee  this  evil  so,  and  worse, 

That  thou  do  take  me  whither  now  thou  saidst, 

So  that  I  may  behold  Saint  Peter's  gate, 

And  those  whom  thou  dost  make  so  sorrowful.' 

Then  on  he  moved,  and  I  kept  after  him. 

Inf.  i.  61-93,  112-136. 

But  the  rayless  atmosphere  seemed  yet  again  to  exert  its 
baleful  influence.  Scarcely  had  they  set  forward  when 
Dante,  appalled  alike  at  the  prospect  before  him  and  at 
his  own  unworthiness,  expressed  his  doubts  and  shrinkings, 
and  was  afresh  and  more  effectually  encouraged. 


Virgil  tells  of  the  descent  of  Beatrice.       35 

'If  I  have  rightly  understood  thy  speech,' 
Replied  that  Shade  of  the  magnanimous, 
'  With  abjectness  thy  spirit  is  oppressed ; 
Which  oftentimes  encumbereth  a  man, 
Diverting  him  from  honored  enterprise, 
As  seeing  false,  a  beast,  when  it  is  dusk. 
In  order  that  thou  free  thee  of  this  fear, 
I  '11  tell  thee  why  I  came,  and  what  I  heard 
At  the  first  point  when  I  was  grieved  for  thee. 
I  was  among  the  Spirits  in  suspense  : 
I  A  lady  called  me,  blest  and  beautiful, 
Such  that  I  did  beseech  her  to  command. 
Her  eyes  were  shining  more  than  does  the  star, 
And  she  began  to  address  me,  soft  and  low, 
With  voice  angelic  in  her  utterance. 
"  O  courteous  Spirit  thou  of  Mantua, 
Of  whom  the  fame  yet  in  the  world  endures, 
And  shall  endure  as  far  as  motion  does,  — 
One  that  is  mine  and  is  not  Fortune's  friend 
Is  so  impeded  on  the  desert  slope, 
Upon  his  path,  that  he  is  turned  for  dread  ; 
And  he  's  so  far  already  strayed,  I  fear, 
That  to  his  help  I  may  be  risen  late, 
By  that  which  I  in  Heaven  have  heard  of  him. 
Now  do  thou  move,  and  with  thine  ornate  speech, 
And  what  behooves  to  his  deliverance, 
So  succor  him  that  I  may  be  consoled. 
I  that  do  make  thee  go  am  Beatrice : 
I  come  from  where  I  would  return  unto  : 
Love  moved  me,  as  it  maketh  me  to  speak. 
When  I  shall  be  in  presence  of  my  Lord, 
Thee  will  I  praise  unto  Him  oftentimes." 
Here  she  was  silent ;  and  then  I  began ;  — 
"  Lady  of  Virtue,  oh  by  whom  alone 


36  Wherefore  Beatrice  descended. 

The  human  race  exceeds  the  whole  contents 

Within  that  heaven  which  hath  its  circles  least,1 

So  much  doth  thy  commanding  pleasure  me 

As  that  obeying,  though  now  't  were,  were  late  : 

Needs  thee  no  further  open  me  thy  wish. 

But  tell  me  wherefore  thou  dost  not  beware 

Of  coming  to  this  centre  here-adown, 

From  the  ample  place  thou  burnest  to  regain." 

"  Since  thou  so  far  within  desir'st  to  know, 

I  briefly  shall  apprise  thee,"  she  replied, 

"  Why  I  am  not  afraid  to  come  herein. 

Only  those  things  are  to  be  had  in  fear 

Which  have  the  potency  to  do  one  harm  ; 

The  others  not,  for  they  're  not  terrible. 

I,  of  His  grace,  am  fashioned  such  by  God 

That  misery  of  yours  touches  not  me, 

Nor,  of  this  burning,  flame  assails  me  not. 

In  heaven  a  gentle  lady  is,  who  grieves 

For  this  impediment  I  send  thee  to, 

So  that  she  breaks  the  stern  decree  above. 

Lucia  she  prayed  in  her  soliciting, 

And  said  :  *  Now  stands  thy  faithful  one  in  need 

Of  thee ;  and  him  to  thee  I  recommend.' 

Enemy  to  all  cruel,  Lucia 

Moved  her,  and  to  the  place  came  where  was  I, 

Who  side  by  side  with  ancient  Rachel  sat. 

*  Beatrice,'  said  she,  *  very  praise  of  God, 

Why  succorest  not  him  who  loved  thee  so 

He  issued  from  the  vulgar  herd  for  thee  ? 

Hearest  thou  not  the  anguish  of  his  plaint  ? 

Seest  thou  not  the  death  which  combats  him 


1  *  The  Lunar  Heaven  ;  in  other  words,  "  Through  whom  the  human 
race  excels  every  other  sublunary  thing." ' 


Dante  encouraged  by 


Upon  the  flood  whereof  no  sea  can  boast  ?  '  1 

Never  were  persons  in  the  world  so  swift 

To  do  their  vantage,  and  to  flee  their  harm, 

As  I,  upon  the  proffering  such  words, 

Came  downward  hither  from  my  blessed  throne, 

Confiding  me  in  thy  decorous  speech, 

Which  honors  thee  and  those  who've  hearkened  it." 

After  whenas  she  had  discoursed  me  this, 

Weeping,  she  turned  away  her  shining  eyes, 

Whereby  the  swifter  made  she  me  to  come. 

And  unto  thee  I  came,  as  she  did  will  : 

Away  I  took  thee  from  before  the  beast 

Which  stopped  thee  from  the  fair  mount's  short  ascent. 

What  is't  then  ?     Wherefore,  wherefore,  hold'st  thou  back  ? 

Wherefore  dost  harbor  in  thy  heart  such  fear  ? 

Daring  and  valor  wherefore  hast  thou  not  ? 

Seeing  such  ladies  three  beatified 

Have  in  the  court  of  heaven  a  care  of  thee, 

And  mine  assertion  warrants  thee  such  good.' 

Like  as  the  flowerets,  by  the  nightly  frost 

Bent  down  and  closed,  when  the  sun  whitens  them, 

All  open  on  their  stalk  erect  themselves  ; 

Such  I  became  as  to  my  courage  spent  : 

And  to  my  heart  such  righteous  daring  flowed 

That,  like  to  one  stout-hearted,  I  began  : 

•  Oh  !  she  that  succored  me  compassionate  ! 

And  courteous  thou  who  promptly  didst  obey 

The  veritable  words  she  proffered  thee  ! 

Thou  with  desiring  hast  disposed  my  heart 

So  to  the  going  forward,  by  thy  words, 

1  '  Perhaps  an  allusion  to  the  hellish  river  Acheron,  which  loses  itself 
in  the  centre  of  earth,  instead  of  emptying  into  any  sea.' 


' 

38  D  antes  political  views. 

That  I  've  reverted  to  the  first  intent. 

Now  go,  for  there  's  one  only  will  in  both,  — 

Thou  leader,  and  thou  lord,  and  master  thou.' 

So  said  I  to  him :  and,  when  he  had  moved, 
I  entered  in  the  lofty  wooded  way. 

ii.  43-H2- 

These  first  two  cantos  of  the  Inferno  must  be  regarded 
•  as  belonging  not  to  it  only,  but  to  the  whole  Divina  Com- 
<  media,  between  which  and  the  .^Vita  Nuova  they  form 
the  connecting  link.  Ere  we  can  even  inadequately  enter 
into  their  meaning,  we  must  have  some  general  notion  of 
Dante's  matured  political  views  as  set  forth  in  his  treatise 
De  Monarchia.  His  Ghibellinism  was  neither  a  narrow 
partisanship,  nor  a  hesitating  adherence  founded  on  a  nice 
balancing  of  the  more  of  good  and  less  of  evil  in  the  two 
opposing  factions.  Rather  he  had  formed  a  vast  sublime 
conception,  which  shall  be  set  forth  in  his  own  words  :  — 
'  O*ly  Man  among  beings  holds  mid  place  between  things 
corruptible  and  things  incorruptible ;  ...  so,  alone  among 
all  beings  is  he  ordained  to  two  ultimate  ends  :  whereof  the 
one  is  the  end  of  Man  according  as  he  is  corruptible,  the 
other  his  end  according  as  he  is  incorruptible.  Therefore 
that  unspeakable  Providence  proposed  to  Man  two  ends; 
the  one  the  beatitude  of  this  life,  which  consists  in  the 
operations  of  his  own  virtue,  and  is  figured  in  the  Terres- 
trial Paradise ;  the  other  the  beatitude  of  eternal  life,  which 
consists  in  the  fruition  of  the  Divine  Countenance,  whereto 
his  own  virtue  cannot  mount  except  it  be  aided  by  the 
Divine  Light  —  and  this  is  understood  by  the  Celestial 
Paradise.  To  these  two  beatitudes,  as  to  divers  conclu- 


Doctrine  respecting  Pope  and  Emperor.     39 

sions,  by  divers  means  must  we  come.  For  to  the  first  we 
attain  by  philosophic  teachings,  provided  we  follow  these, 
acting  according  to  the  moral  and  intellectual  virtues  : 1  to 
the  second  by  those  spiritual  teachings  which  transcend 
human  reason,  provided  we  follow  these,  acting  according 
to  the  theological  virtues,  Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity.  There- 
fore these  conclusions  and  means  —  albeit  they  be  shown  us, 
the  one  by  human  reason,  which  all  was  made  known  to 
us  by  Philosophers ;  the  other  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  Who, 
through  Prophets  and  hagiographers,  through  Jesus  Christ, 
Son  of  God  Co-eternal  to  Himself,  and  through  His  disciples, 
revealed  truth  supernatural  and  to  us  necessary  —  human 
cupidity  would  repudiate,  unless  men  like  horses,  in  their 
bestial  nature  wandering,  by  bit  and  bridle  were  restrained 
on  the  road.  Wherefore  by  man  was  needed  a  double 
directive  according  to  the  double  end :  that  is,  of  the  Su- 
preme Pontiff,  who,  according  to  Revelation,  should  lead 
mankind  to  eternal  life ;  and  of  the  Emperor,  who,  accord- 
ing to  philosophic  teachings,  should  direct  mankind  to 
temporal  felicity.  And  whereas  to  this  port  none  or  few, 
and  those  with  overmuch  difficulty,  could  attain,  unless 
mankind,  the  waves  of  enticing  cupidity  being  quieted, 
should  repose  free  in  the  tranquillity  of  peace ;  this  is  the 
aim  to  be  mainly  kept  in  view  by  the  Guardian  of 
the  Globe,  who  is  named  Roman  Prince,  to  wit,  that  in  the 
garden-plot  of  mortals  freely  with  peace  may  men  live.' 2 
The  expression  '  Guardian  of  the  Globe,'  is  equivalent  to 
'  Emperor  of  the  whole  Earth,'  for  Dante's  conception  was 
of  nothing  less  than  a  temporal  supremacy  of  the  Emperor 

1  Note  here  Dante's  esteem  of  Philosophy,  and  cf.  pp.  21-25. 

2  De  MonarchiA^  iii.  15. 


4O  Interpretation  of  the  Wood. 

correspondent  to  the  spiritual  supremacy  of  the  Pope  in 
universality,  in  direct  derivation  from  Almighty  God,  and  in 
indissoluble  connection  with  the  city  and  people  of  Rome. 

Under  the  shadow  of  this  world-filling  vision  we  sit  down 
to  expound. 

-  The  Wood  appears,  beyond  a  doubt,  to  be  symbolical  of 
the  moral  and  political  condition  of  Italy  just  before  Dante's 
election  to  the  Priorato  —  a  state  of  anarchy  rapidly  lapsing, 
in  his  apprehension,  into  savagery.  Selva  =  wood  is  the  root 
of  selvaggio  =  savage ;  il  viver  selvaggio  =  savage  life,  is  op- 
posed to  il  viver  civile  =  civil  life  ;  the  worst  of  all  evils  for 
man  on  earth  is  non  esser  cive x  =  not  to  be  a  citizen  =  to  live 
in  the  isolation  of  a  savage.  Dante  then,  before  reason  had 
matured  within  him,  found  himself  a  Guelphic  member  of  a 
Guelphic  family,  living  in  a  factiously  Guelphic  community ; 
and  became  thus  involved  in  a  maze  of  moral  and  political 
disorder.  Before  his  mental  eye  rose  fair -the  hill  of  Virtue, 
illuminated  by  the  sun  of  Reason,  and  waiting  for  the  ideal 
City.  He  proposed  to  inaugurate,  during  his  tenure  of 
office,  the  course  which  should  build  and  people  it :  —  how 
colossal  was  the  task,  how  all  but  non-existent  were  the 
materials,  we  gather  from  Boccaccio's  record  of  his  silence 
and  his  words  on  a  memorable  occasion.  '  He  being  glori- 
ously supreme  in  the  government  of  the  Republic,  discourse 
was  held  among  the  chief  citizens  of  sending,  for  a  certain 
great  need  (to  check  the  intrigue  of  the  Blacks  with  Charles 
of  Valois),  an  embassy  to  Pope  Boniface  VIII.,  and  of 
appointing  Dante  head  of  this  embassy.  And  he  receiv- 
ing the  proposal  in  the  presence  of  all  who  so  counselled, 
and  somewhat  delaying  his  reply,  one  happened  to  say: 

1  Par.  viii.  115-117. 


CHAPTER  V. 
THE  HELL. 

Questo  baratro  e'l  popol  che  '1  possiede. 

This  gulf,  and  eke  the  folk  which  it  possess. 

Inf.  xi.  69. 

HELL  —  in  Holy  Scripture  so  vividly  represented  as 
the  Pit,  that  not  only  is  our  Blessed  Lord  said  to 
have  descended  into  the  lower  parts  of  the  earth,  but  the 
dead  Samuel  complains  of  being  brought  up,  and  the  living 
David  and  Hezekiah  deprecate  going  down  —  is  by  Dante 
placed,  as  we  have  before  seen,  within  the  Earth ;  its  upper- 
most central  spot  directly  under  that  portion  of  her  crust 
which  sustains  Jerusalem,  its  innermost  central  point  her 
centre  of  gravity.  The  annexed  plan  of  a  section  of  the 
Pit  shows  its  form  to  be  that  of  a  funnel,  or  hollow  inverted 
cone ;  within  whose  circuit  we  shall  find  that,  as  space  con- 
tracts, torment  intensifies. 

Hell  is  entered  through  an  awful  Gate,  closed  to  none  ; 
reft  of  all  fastenings  since  the  day  when  the  Conqueror  of 
Death,  fresh  from  the  Cross,  forced  through  it  His  resistless 
passage  ;  and  bearing  above  it,  in  a  dark  color,  this  in- 
scription :  — 

j  *  Through  me  you  pass  into  the  grieving  realm ; 
\    Through  me  you  pass  into  the  eternal  grief; 


44  Ante- Hell:  the  Neutrals. —  The  four  Rivers. 

Through  me  you  pass  among  the  kin  that 's  lost. 

Justice  impelled  my  Maker  the  All- High  ; 

The  Puissance  Divine  created  me, 

The  Supreme  Wisdom,  and  the  Primal  Love. 

Before  myself,  created  things  were  not, 

Unless  eternal :  —  I  eternal  last. 

Leave  off  all  hope,  all  ye  that  enter  in.' 

fyf.  m.  1-9. 

Immediately  beyond  this  Gate  lies  a  dreary  _Antfi=Hell, 
the  prison  of  certain  Angels  who  when  there  was"  war  in 
Heaven  took  neither  side,  and  of  an  inconceivable  multi- 
tude of  human  Souls  who  during  their  probation  lived  with- 
out infamy  and  without  praise,  displeasing  alike  to  God  and 
to  His  foes,  selfishly  neutral  in  the  great  unceasing  conflict 
between  good  and  evil ;  —  never  alive  as  noble  minds  count 
life ;  now  most  really  and  most  awfully  dead.  For  as  they 
passed  their  Time  trimming  and  shuffling  in  the  train  of 
public  opinion,  the  sensitive  slaves  of  every  gossiping 
tongue  of  their  acquaintance  —  even  so,  disdained  alike  by 
Justice  and  by  Mercy,  are  they  left  to  pass  their  Eternity 
hurriedly  chasing  a  hurrying  standard,  while  flies  and  wasps 
sting  their  naked  bodies,  and  disgusting  worms  absorb  their 
blood  and  tears. 

Ante-Hell  is  bounded  by  the  Acheron,  the  first  of  the 
four  infernal  rivers  :  of  whose  source  a  word  may  fitly  here 
be  said.  —  In  Crete,  once  fertile,  now  waste,  is  situate  Mount 
Ida,  where  Jove  was  nursed ;  and  within  the  cavernous 
hollow  of  the  mountain  there  yet  stands  erect  the  colossal 
form  of  Jove's  father  Saturn,  King  of  Crete  during  the 
Golden  Age.  As  the  symbol  of  Time,  he  turns  his  back 
on  Damietta,  for  the  East  is  of  the  past ;  his  face  toward 


Saturn. — Acheron:  Charon.  45 

Rome,  for  the  West  is  of  the  present  and  the  future.  In 
form  he  is,  with  slight  variations,  the  Great  Image  of 
Nebuchadnezzar's  dream ;  his  head  is  of  fine  gold,  his 
breast  and  arms  of  pure  silver,  his  middle  of  brass,  his 
thighs,  legs,  and  left  foot  of  choice  iron,  his  right  foot,  on 
which  he  chiefly  rests,  of  clay.  Thus  representing  the 
successive  ages  of  the  world  in  their  faultless  commence- 
ment and  gradual  degeneracy,  in  all  his  substance  save  the 
gold  he  is  cleft  by  a  deep  fissure,  whence  trickle  the  tears 
of  human  shame  and  sorrow,  till  they  form  streams  of  force 
to  break  through  the  earth's  crust,  and  of  volume  to  con- 
stitute the  fQU£^btejrajie£n_riyers  —  Acheron,  Styx,J^hlege- 
thon,  and  Cocytus.  With  the  last  three  we  shall  meet  in 
due  time  ;  our  present  business  is  with  Acheron  =  Joyless, 
which  flows  down  from  the  silver  breast;  and  on  whose 
brink  gather  from  all  lands  all  human  souls  that  depart 
under  the  wrath  of  God.  Charon,- the  first  of  a  long  train 
of  daemonic  personages  superhuman,  human,  and  subhuman, 
is  the  ferryman  :  and  the  miserable  Shades  are  driven  into 
his  boat  by  the  sharp  inward  spurring  of  the  Divine  Justice, 
further  enforced  upon  laggards  by  blows  from  the  oar. 

Hell  proper,  which  begins  on  the  -  oppQsiteL...bank,  is 
divided  into  nine  concentric  Circles  ;  each  being  a  landing- 
place  in  the  descent,  having  on  the  one  hand  the  wall  of 
solid  earth,  on  the  other  the  fearful  void  of  the  Abyss. 

Circle  I.  is  ^Limbo,  the  habitation  of  two  classes  of  the 
Unbaptized :  Infants  who  have  died  too  young  for  actual 
sin,  and  such  Non-believers  of  every  age  and  clime  as, 
being  in  invincible  ignorance,  have  ruled  their  lives  by  the 
law  of  conscience,  or  have  signally  benefited  mankind.  A 
third  class  was  once  there  too  —  the  holy  Souls  of  the  chosen 


46  Circle  I. :  Limbo. 

nation,  who  had  passed  from  life  in  faith  in  Christ  to  come, 
and  whom  He  liberated  at  His  triumphal  Descent. 

The  denizens  of  Limbo,  free  from  outward  inflictions, 
express  by  plaints  which  are  only  sighs  a  pain  which  is 
only  longing :  but  that  hopeless  longing  is  for  the  Face  of 
God,  and  that  aching  pain  is  the  '  pain  of  loss,'  and  those 
ceaseless  sighs  make  the  still  air  tremble  into  the  eternal 
breeze  that  constitutes  the  atmosphere  of  this  thick  spirit- 
wesd.  Not  far  down  in  the  descent,  amid  the  gloom,  shines 
a  luminous  spot,  where  stands  a  noble  castle  guarded  by 
sevenfold  high  walls,  entered  by  sevenfold  gates,  entrenched 
by  a  fair  stream,  and  enclosing  a  meadow  of  fresh  verdure  :  — 
for  even  on  unchristened  man  shines  the  light  of  brighter 
Intellect  irradiating  the  deeper  shades;  and  Virtue  with 
Wisdom  builds  up  a  strong  and  noble  habitation  for  the 
heroic  and  philosophic  soul;  and  the  Seven  Virtues  are 
high,  guarding  the  Reason  and  the  Will;  and  the  Seven 
Sciences  give  entrance  into  the  inner  places  of  Knowledge ; 
and  Education  affords  the  stream  of  passage  from  without, 
while  within  the  formed  mind  and  character  repose  in  free- 
dom and  refreshment.  This  castle  is  the  utmost  pointy  of 
attainment  for  non-believers  ;  —  here  abide  their  heroes  and 
heroines,  the  great  ones  of  their  active  life ;  here  too,  and 
in  somewhat  more  exalted  place,  their  poets  and  sages, 
the  great  ones  of  their  contemplative  life.  Consciously 
as  locally  suspended  between  reward  and  punishment, 
balked  and  baffled  in  their  whole  nature  for  lack  of  that 
which  is  above  nature,  keenly  sensitive  to  every  wounding 
token  of  their  separation  from  the  Blessed;  thirsting  still 
for  the  perfect  knowledge  they  thirsted  for  on  earth,  and 
knowing  they  must  forever  thirst  in  vain ;  desiring  without 


Minos. — Th  ree  Classes  of  Sins.  Incon  tinence.  4  7 

hope  that  Supreme  Good  of  which  they  can  form  higher 
conceptions  than  can  their  fellow-prisoners,  yet  too  self- 
controlled,  as  it  would  seem,  to  sigh  their  atmosphere  out 
of  its  perfect  stillness ;  in  countenance  neither  sad  nor  glad, 
but  of  great  authority;  slow  and  grave  in  gaze,  uttering 
rare  speech  with  modulated  voice ;  retaining  the  tender 
affections  of  their  earthly  state,  and  some  at  least  com- 
passionating in  all  the  void  with  which  each  and  all  are 
aching,  these  God-sick  dwellers  on  the  edge  of  the  '  great 
gulf  fixed '  pine  on  and  on  eternally,  conscious  of  every 
natural  endowment  of  kings  and  priests  in  the  Heavenly 
City,  but  wanting  alike  the  anointing  oil  of  grace  and  the 
crown  of  glory. 

At  the  entrance  of  the  Second ^Circle  sits  another  dae- 
monic personage  —  the  infernal  Judge_  Minos.  All  those 
who,  having  passed  Acheron,  stop  ..not—short  in  Limbo, 
stand  in  turn  before  him  to  confess  their  sins,  and  he, 
discerning  to  which  of  the  eight  penal  Circles  each  Soul 
belongs, 

Girds  himself  with  his  tail  as  many  times 
As  he  resolves  that  she  be  lowered  grades. 

V.   11-12. 

In  these  eight  Circles  we  first  note  the  three  great 
•classes  into  which  Dante,  following  Aristotle  in  names, 
though  not  altogether  in  their  application,  divides  sins ; 
viz.,  Incontinence,  Bestialism,  and  Malice.  Incontinence 
is  want  of  self-control;  the  sins  which  proceed  from  it, 
and  which  are  punished  in  the  Second,  Third,  Fourth, 
and  Fifth  Circle  respectively,  are  Lasciviousness,  Gluttony, 
Avarice  with  Prodigality,  Anger  with  Melancholy.  Bestial- 
ism,  punished  in  the  Sixth  Circle,  and  in  strict  accordance 


48  Bestialism.  —  Malice :    Violence. 

with  the  meaning  of  the  Italian  word  bestialitade  charac- 
terized by  Dante  as  besotted,  comprises  Infidelity  and 
Heresy  in  all  their  forms ;  the  most  prominent  form  being 
that  Materialism  whereof  our  author  says  in  his  Convito, 
'Among  all  bestialisms  (i.e.,  follies)  that  is  most  stupid, 
most  vile,  and  most  hurtful  by  which  any  believes,  after 
this  life  no  other  life  to  be ;  inasmuch  as  if  we  turn  over  all 
the  writings  as  well  of  philosophers  as  of  other  wise  writers, 
all  agree  in  this,  that  in  us  is  some  part  perpetual.' 1 

Malice  works  others  woe  either  by  Violence  or  by  Fraud. 
And  here  —  lest  my  reader  should  echo  Dante's  perplexity  at 
Virgil's  statement  —  I  had  better  premise  that  some  sins  of 
Malice  will  appear  nearly  identical  with  some  of  Inconti- 
nence ;  but  in  each  such  case  the  moral  difference  between 
sins  of  passion  and  surprise,  and  sins  of  wilfulness,  delibe- 
ration and  depravity,  must  be  taken  for  granted. 

Violence  is  punished  in  the  Seventh  Circle  according  to 
a  threefold  classification  of  sinners  against  their  neighbor, 
themselves,  or  their  God.  Further  subdivisions  distinguish 
slayers  or  injurers  of  person  from  robbers,  wasters,  or  de- 
stroyers of  property ;  and  offenders  against  the  Sacred  Per- 
son of.  God  by  blasphemy,  from  offenders  against  the  things 
of  God,  i.e.,  Nature  and  Art.  For  as  Nature  is  God's  daugh- 
ter and  disciple,  so  Art,  her  child  and  follower,  must  needs 
be  His  granddaughter  and  sub-disciple.  The  offence 
against  Art  is  Usury  —  God's  sentence  being  that  man  shall 
eat  bread  in  the  sweat  of  his  brow,  i.e.,  shall  by  labor  of 
head  and  hand  utilize  natural  resources ;  whereas  the  usurer, 
a  mere  parasite,  derives  nourishment  from  toils  he  never 
shares,  and  from  supplies  to  which  he  adds  nothing. 

1  Conv.  ii.  9. 


Fraud. —  Two  Points. — Circle  II.  Lascivious.  49 

Fraud  alone  remains  to  be  treated  of  in  its  surpassing 
heinousness  as  the  abuse  of  man's  peculiar  and  noblest  gift 
of  Reason,  and  in  its  yet  more  minute  and  perplexing  clas- 
sification. Its  main  distinction  is  that  which  assigns  to  the 
Eighth  Circle  ten  subdivisions  of  the  simply  Fraudulent, 
who,  by  deceiving  such  as  had  no  special  reason  for  trusting 
them,  have  broken  only  the  bond  of  love  uniting  all  men 
as  sharers  in  a  common  nature ;  and  to  the  Ninth  Circle 
four  subdivisions  of  the  Treacherous,  who,  by  betraying 
their  kindred,  country,  friends,  or  beneficent  lords,  have 
broken  the  closer  bond  of  natural  love  intertwined  with 
special  faith. 

Two  more  points  should  be  premised  with  regard  to  all 
the  reprobate.  First,  that  after  the  Resurrection  of  the 
Body  their  sufferings  will  increase,  inasmuch  as  sensitive- 
ness to  good  and  evil  is  in  proportion  to  the  perfection  of 
him  who  experiences  either;  and  though  sin  be  essential 
imperfection,  yet  the  risen  sinner  will  be  so  far  perfect  as 
to  possess  both  the  parts  which  constitute  man.  And 
secondly,  that  Dante  supposes  them  to  have  some  knowledge 
of  future  events  in  this  world,  but  not  of  present  unless  in- 
formed from  without ;  whence  it  follows  that  all  their  knowl- 
edge will  become  extinct  from  that  hour  in  which  the  door 
of  the  future  shall  be  shut. 

Having  taken  this  general  survey  we  proceed  to  particu- 
lars. 

Incontinence,  as  we  have  seen,  is  want  of  self-restraint, 
and  is  the  principle  of  the  sins  for  which  four,  or  perhaps 
more  correctly  six,  classes  of  transgressors  suffer  in  four 
successive  Circles. 

In  Circle  II.,  the  prison  of  the  Lascivious,  begins  the 

4 


50     Circle  III.  Gluttons  :  IV.  Money -sinners. 

outer  darkness  of  Hell  and  the  '  pain  _Q f .sense.'  Here  they 
whose  passions  have  sown  the  wind  reap  the  roaring  whirl- 
wind, and  utter  most  piercing  shrieks  of  terror  as  ever  and 
anon  they  are  blown  to  the  very  edge  of  the  yawning 
Abyss. 

Circle^  Til,  is  a  climate  of  cold,  heavy,  dirty-looking, 
stench-exhaling,  cHangeless  rain  and  hail  and  snow,  pour- 
ing down  in  ceaseless  torrents  on  the  prostrate  Gluttons, 
whose  god  was  their  belly,  and  who,  now  and  to  all  Eter- 
nity the  prey  of  a  sort  of  personified  belly,  the  demon 
f  iCerberus,  are  devoured  by  his  teeth,  rent  by  his  claws,  and 
deafened  by  his  barking. 

Dante's  view  of  Usury  will  have  prepared  us  to  find  that 
he  regards  all  misusers  of  money,  whether  hoarders  or 
wasters,  as  special  ignorers  of  social  obligation  and  breakers 
of  social  order.  Consequently,  in  the  various  Circles 
wherein  they  are  located,  one  punishment  is  of  continual 
recurrence  —  made  in  some  way  invisible  or  unrecognizable, 
they  are  cut  off  from  society.  In  Circle  IV.,  the  realm  of  the 
demon  Plutus,  are  seen  but  not  known  a  vast  multitude  of 
the  two  least  guilty  classes  of  money-sinners :  Misers  who 
placed  their  happiness  in  gold,  and  who  will  rise  from  the 
dead  with  clenched  fists ;  Spendthrifts  who  placed  theirs  in 
what  gold  will  buy,  and  who  will  rise  with  close-cropped 
hair.  (An  Italian  proverb  says  of  such,  '  darebbe  tutto  fino  ai 
capelli '  = ( He  would  lavish  all,  to  his  very  hair.')  x  The  two 
bands  forever  crawl  in  opposite  directions  half-way  round 
their  dungeon,  howling  as  they  impel  before  them  weighty 
masses  which  at  each  recurring  meeting  clash  in  infernal 
harmony  with  their  mutual  revilings. 

1  G.  Rossetti,  Com.  An.  vol.  i.  c.  vii.  t.  19. 


Circle  V.    Wrathful  and  Melancholy.       5 1 

Circle  V.,  the  domain  of  the  demon  Phlegyas,  is  the 
muddy  and  putrid  ^River__Styx^=  Hatred,  Sadness,  which, 
flowing  from  the  brazen  middle  of  Saturn,  and  here  forcing 
its  way  through  the  wall  of  Heli,  harbors  the  Wrathful  = 
fracondi,  and  the  Melancholy  =  Aaidiosi :  two  classes  who 
seem  at  first  sight  to  have  little  in  common.  S.  John  the 
Damascene  however  speaks  of  Ira  as  '  a  kindling  of  the 
blood  surrounding  the  heart,  through  the  vapor ation  of 
the  gall ; '  —  while  S.  Thomas  Aquinas  attributes  Accidia 
to  'sad  and  melancholy  vaporations ;'  hence  probably  their 
combination  by  Dante  under  like  punishment  by  putrid 
fumes.  The  question  is  farther  complicated  by  Accidia  = 
Melancholy,  being  in  Italian  identified  with  the  deadly  sin 
of  Sloth,  and  defined  by  theologians  as  '  a  certain  sadness 
which  weighs  down  the  spirit  of  man  in  such  wise  that  there  is 
nothing  he  likes  to  do ;  wherefore  accidia  implies  a  certain 
tedium  :  ' 1 — '  a  sadness  of  the  mind  which  weighs  upon  the 
spirit,  so  that  the  person  conceives  no  will  towards  well- 
doing, but  rather  feels  it  irksome.' 2  Dante  in  the  Purga- 
torio,  as  we  shall  hereafter  find,  dwells  on  the  sluggish,  as 
here  in  the  Inferno  on  the  gloomy,  aspect  of  the  sin.  And 
as  he  punishes  lower  down,  in  the  Circle  of  the  Violent,  not 
only  suicides  as  corresponding  to  murderers,  but  as  corre- 
sponding to  robbers  those  spendthrifts  and  gamblers  who 
have  wantonly  and  obstinately  reduced  themselves  to  weep 
where  they  were  meant  to  be  joyous,  so  he  here  punishes 
with  the  wrathful  enemies  of  others'  peace  and  happiness  the 
melancholy  enemies  of  their  own.  These,  imbedded  in  the 
very  dregs  of  the  pool,  bewail  eternally  the  absence  of  those 
cheering  influences  of  Nature  by  which  they  sometime  re- 

1  Maestruzzo.  2  Tratt.  Pecc.  Mort. 


52  Wherein  Meekness  consists. 

fused  to  be  cheered  :  —  while  those,  partly  emerging  above 
its  surface,  rend  and  defile  each  other  and  themselves  after 
death,  as  once  in  life.  It  is  farther  noteworthy  that  both  in 
the  Inferno  and  in  the  Purgatorio  the  Meekness  contrary  to 
the  sin  of  Anger  is  in  practice  set  forth  far  less  as  the  un- 
r^sjstjpg--GeJItleness_which  endures^ey^  than  as  the  righteous 
Indignation^-whidi^iejjels^it.  For  in  the  Convito,  Dante, 
defining  Virtue  in  general  as  'an  elective  habit  consisting 
in  the  mean,'  lays  down  that  Meekness  l  moderates  our 
anger  and  our  too  great  patience  against  our  exterior  ills  : ' 1 
herein  following  his  master  Ser  Brunetto,  who  thus  speaks : 
1  He  that  is  truly  meek  2  is  angry  whereat  he  ought,  and 
with  whom,  and  as  much  as,  and  as,  and  when,  and 
where.  He  is  wrathful 3  that  passes  the  mean  in  these 
things,  and  forthwith  rushes  into  Anger.  The  wrathless 4 
is  he  that  is  not  angry  where  it  behooves,  and  when,  and 
as  much  as,  and  with  whom,  and  as ;  and  he  is  not  to  be 
praised.' 5  It  is  extremely  probable  that  the  Accidiosi  at 
the  bottom  of  Styx  while  on  earth  partook  largely  of  such 
Wrathlessness,  supinely  wretched  for  want  of  that  measured 
Resentment  which,  stopping  short  of  revenge,  would  yet 
have  remedied  mischief.6 

So  far  Incontinence,  which  gradually  but  surely  besotting 
the  Understanding  and  perverting  the  Will,  at  length  brings 
to  pass  that  men  do  not  like  to  retain  God  in  their  knowl- 
edge, nor  to  look  forward  to  the  Judgment  after  death ; 
and  so  depraves  them  into  that  Bestialism  which  seems  to 
correspond  to  the  Folly  of  Holy  Writ.  By  it  the  fool 

1  Convito  iv.  17.  2  Mansueto.  3  Iracondo. 

4  Inrascibile.  5   Tesoro  vi.  21. 

6  G.  Rossetti,  Comento  Analitico,  Riflessioni  sul  c.  vii. 


Circle  VI.  Infidelity  and  Heresy.  53 

saith   in  .his   heart,  '  There  „  is   no   God,'  denying   Him   in 
Whose    Image  he  was  made  ;    by  it  he   mentally  remakes 
himself  in  the  image  of  the  beasts  that  perish.     Therefore 
after  the   lesser  inflictions   of  U££er_Hell,  the   region  of   \ 
throuh  the  four  "Circles  of  the    Inconti- 


nent,    come    the    torments    of   Nether    Hell,  the    region    of     ; 
(darknessjmd  of  fire^;  that  fire  being,  in  every  instance  but     [ 
one,  the  peculiar  punishment  of  such  as  have  dared  come 
into  direct  collision  with  Him  Who  is  a  Consuming  Fire, 
even  the  Jealous  God.     It  first  burns  in  the  one  appalling 
Circle  of  the  Bestialized  —  Circle_JVl:,jth^  a 

fortified  cemetery  whose  turrets  and  walls,  garrisoned  by 
demons  and  guarded  by  Furies^jiefend  no  houses,  but  keep 
under  closest  watch  and  ward  tombs  red-heated  by  creeping 
flames  —  tombs  of  souls  buried  everlastingly,  like  with  like, 
for  the  Infidelity  which  disbelieved  their  God's  existence 
and  their  own,  or  for  the  Heresy  which  declared  their  God 
other  than  He  has  revealed  Himself  to  be.  Open  as  yet, 
'  these  tombs  will  all  be  closed  over  the  re-embodied  souls 
after  the  Judgment  Day. 

As  Incontinence  degrades  the  soul  towards  Bestialism,  so 
Bestialism  hems  it  round  in  Malice.  He  indeed  is  the  fool 
of  fools  who  saith,  '  There  is  no  God  ;  '  but  he  too  is  a  fool 
who,  saying,  'Tush,  the  Lord  shall  not  see,'  goes  on  to 
annul  his  Reason  by  brutish  Violence,  or  to  abuse  it  by 
worse  than  brutish  Fraud.  Consequently  the  three  remain- 
ing Circles,  though  sunk  to  a  far  lower  level.,  are  accounted 
withnTthe  Red  City  of  Dis,  and  are  under  the  guard  of  its 
fortified  enclosure.  Its  central  Void,  exhaling  the  intoler- 
able stench  of  deadliest  sin,  is  the  brute-dernor^^inotaur^ 


54  Circle  VII.  Violence,  3  classes. 

prowling-field ;  in  depth  ever  a  fearful  chasm,  in  character 
a  broken  and  precipitous  landslip  from  the  hour  when  the 
earthquake  at  the  Crucifixion,  felt  throughout  the  Abyss, 
left  its  special  and  tremendous  mark  on  the  prison-houses 
of  the  Violence  and  Fraud  which  had  culminated  in 
Deicide. 

At  the  foot  of  this  chasm  spreads  Circle  VIJ^.  JheJHel^of 
Violence,  divided  into  three  concentric  rings.  Ring  i,  the 
outermost,  is  the  boiling  Blood-rjyer_ffilegetriori^=  Burning, 
issuing  from  Saturn's  iron  limbs.  Herein  stand,  at  a  greater 
or  less  depth  according  to  the  degree  of  their  guilt,  the 
Violent  against  their  Neighbor's  person  or  property :  /.<?., 
Tyrants,  Murderers,  and  Marauders.  Their  demon-gaolers 
are  the  Centaurs,  whose  arrows  keep  them  down  to  the  pre- 
scribed depth.  Within  the  circuit  of  the  Blood-river  lies 
Ring  2,  the  Dolorous  Wood,  prison  and  population  all  in 
one.  For  its  poison-trees  are  SmcideSj_  degraded  from 
animal  to  vegetable  bodies,  tortured  by  Harpies,  who 
pluck  and  eat  their  leaves,  and  alone  of  all  the  lost  doomed 
after  the  Judgment  Day  not  to  resume  their  self- despoiled 
garment  of  flesh,  but  hang  it  on  a  branch.  All  about  the 
Wood  wanton  Spendthrifts  and  destroyers  of  their  own 
goods,  in  utter  nakedness,  are  hunted  and  rent  piecemeal 
by  demon  hounds.  Phlegethon,  here  flowing  unseen  be- 
neath the  soil,  reappears  at  the  edge  of  this  grim  garland 
to  traverse  its  enclosure,  Ring  3,  a  scorched  and  scorching 
Sand-Waste  lying  under  a  rain  of  fire-flakes.  —  And  here  a 
very  curious  question  presents  itself.  In  the  second  Can- 
zone of  the  Convito,  Dante  thus  speaks  of  Philosophy, 
whom  he  calls  his  Lady  :  — 


The  Fire-rain  of  Ea 


Her  beauty  raineth  down  flamelets  of  fire, 
Animate  with  a  noble  gracious  spirit, 
Which  is  creator  of  each  virtuous  thought ; 
These  break  like  thunderbolts 
The  innate  vices  which  make  any  vile. 

And  he  thus  comments  on  his  own  words  :  '  It  is  to  be 
known  that  morality  is  the  beauty  of  Philosophy  :  for  as  the 
beauty  of  the  body  results  from  the  limbs,  in  so  far  as  they 
are  duly  ordered ;  so  the  beauty  of  wisdom,  which  is  the 
body  of  Philosophy,  as  is  said,  results  from  the  order  of  the 
moral  virtues,  which  cause  that  [wisdom]  to  please  sensibly. 
And  therefore  I  say  that  her  beauty,  that  is  morality,  rains 
flamelets  of  fire,  that  is  right  appetite,  which  is  generated 
in  the  pleasure  of  moral  doctrine ;  which  appetite  separates 
us  even  from  our  natural  vices,  much  more  from  others. 
And  hence  springs  that  happiness,  which  Aristotle  defines 
in  the  first  of  the  Ethics,  saying  that  it  is  action  according 
to  virtue  in  a  perfect  life.'1  One  cannot  help  asking,  Is 
there  a  subtle  connection  between  these  two  fire-rains? 
Philosophy,  defined  as  '  a  loving  use  of  wisdom/  is  said  to 
be  '  chiefly  in  God ; ' 2  and  this  Third  Ring  hems  in  the 
special  violators  of  the  Divine  Majesty  in  His  Sacred 
Person,  in  His  child  Nature,  and  in  His  grandchild  Art. 
Has  that  disregarded  rain,  which  welcomed  into  these  Souls 
on  earth  would  have  separated  them  from  their  sin,  at 
length  penetrated  within  the  earth  to  punish  them  and  their 
now  eternally  inseparable  sin  together  ?  —  However  this  may 
be,  we  certainly  see  here,  as  elsewhere,  sinners  against  God 
under  burning  torment,  endured  by  Blasphemers  supine,  as 
experiencing  in  the  utmost  possible  degree  that  the  God 

1  Conv.  iii.  15.  2  Ib.  iii.  12. 


56         Circle  VIII.  Fraud.     Pit  i,  2,  3. 

Who  answereth  by  fire  is  God  indeed ;  by  breakers  of  His 
laws  in  Nature  walking  compulsorily,  under  a  severe  penalty 
if  they  stop ;  by  breakers  of  His  laws  in  Art  seated.  These 
last,  the  Usurers,  as  money- sinners,  are  not  recognized  by 
personal  semblance,  and  as  quasi-fraudulent  are  located 
next  to  the  central  Void,  here  again  of  appalling  depth,  with 
Phlegethon  for  its  rock-cascade  till  the  stream  disappears 
once  more  under  the  next  landing-place.  The  demon  of 
this  passage  is  Geryon,  a  winged  monster  of  human  face 
and  serpent  trunk  —  apt  type  and  embodiment  of  Fraud.  ' 

^Circle  VI IL,  Evilpits,  is  the  Hell  of  Fraud  Simple,  /.  <?., 
Fraud  against  those  who  have  no  special  ground  of  trust  in 
their  deceiver.  Its  form,  implied  in  its  name,  is  that  of  a 
series  of  circular  concentric  fosses  separated  by  walls,  the 
outermost  wall  being  of  course  the  solid  earth;  and  con- 
nected by  a  chain  of  rock-bridges  running  all  across  from 
wall-top  to  wall-top,  till  cut  short  by  the  central  Void. 
The  whole  is  of  a  livid  stone-color,  and  lies  on  the  slope : 
the  punishment  of  Fraud  in  dungeons  thus  constructed 
corresponding  to  the  hidden  and  lurking  character  of  the 
offence. 

In  Pit  i,  Deceivers  of  women  are  scourged  by  demons. — 
Pit  2  is  a  cesspool  in  which  Flatterers  are  sunk  and  choked ; 
for  'that  which  cometh  out  of  the  mouth,  this  defileth  a 
man.' x — Pit  3,  the  tomb  of  Simoniacs,  is  perforated  through- 
out bottom  and  sides  with  round  holes,  '  purses '  in  which 
these  money-sinners  are  imbursed  from  sight,  head  down- 
ward and  within  the  earth,  while  their  feet  writhe  without, 
licked  by  the  fire  which  torments  offenders  directly  against 
God.  It  is  singular  that  this  fire  is  not  in  each  case 

1  S.  Matt.  xv.  ii. 


Circle  VIII.  Fraud.     Pit  4,  5,  6.          57 

eternal;  as  one  simoniacal  Pope  drops  upon  another  in 
their  special  purse,  the  predecessor  sinks  wholly  within  the 
rock,  and  the  flame  is  transferred  to  the  successor.1  —  Pit  4 
is  ceaselessly  perambulated  by  Diviners,  Sorcerers,  and 
Witches,  with  heads  twisted  round  upon  their  necks,  so  as 
to  look  eternally  backward  for  having  sought  to  look  too 
forward.  Dante  seems,  however,  to  condemn  them  even 
more  as.  jmpostors  than  as  presumptuous  searchers  into  the 
secret  things  of  God.  —  gjT^)  is^a  lakg  f)f  hoi'l^g  pitahj 
wherein  are  submerged  Barterers  of  justice,  office,  etc.,  who 
on  earth  found  money  stick  to  their  hands.  They  are 
under  the  guard  of  a  troop  of  peculiarly  lying  and  spiteful 
demons  with  personal  and  significant  names,  but  classed 
together  as  Evilclaws,  who  tear  them  piecemeal  with  prongs 
if  they  appear  above  the  surface.  —  Pit  6  lodges  the  college 
of  Hypocrites,  toiling  along  under  the  owerwhelming  weight 
of  leaden  cloaks  and  hoods,  dazzlingly  gilt  without.  But 
the  Arch- hypocrites  of  all  time  —  Caiaphas,  Annas,  and  the 
rest  of  the  Council  that  condemned  our  Blessed  Lord  —  lie 
athwart  the  way,  impaled  naked  in  the  form  of  a  cross ; 
trampled  on  by  each  walker  in  succession,  and  so  crushed, 
not  by  one  leaden  mantle,  but  by  as  many  as  the  Pit  con- 
tains. Most  just  and  terrible  retribution,  that  the  rejectors 
at  once  and  instruments  of  the  One  Sacrifice  for  the  sins  of 
the  whole  world  should  thus  sensibly  and  visibly  bear  the 
eternal  burden  of  others'  sin  and  pain  as  well  as  of  their 
own..  Over  this  Pit  the  bridge  is  broken,  and  lies  a  heap 
of  fragments  at  the  bottom ;  this  being  the  second  special 
point  at  which  the  earthquake  at  the  Crucifixion  took 
permanent  effect.  —  Pit  7,  the  dungeon  of  Thieves,  swarms 

1  G.  Rossetti,  Com.  An.  vol.  ii.  c.  xix.  t.  22. 


58      Circle  VIII.  Fraud.     Pit  7,  8,  9,  10. 

with  a  loathsome  agglomerate  of  naked  men  and  serpents ; 
the  serpents  stinging,  the  men  stung,  and  each  thus  alter- 
nately transforming  and  transformed  into,  the  joth^r;  by  a 
hideous  community,  not  of  property  only,  but  of  person, 
'annihilating  the  distinction  between  meum  and  tuum.'1  — 
Pit  8  presents  the  sole  instance  of  a  sin  not  directly  against 
God  avenged  by  burning.  It  is  the  furnace  of  Evil  Coun- 
sellors, whose  tongue,  a  little  member  set  on  fire  of  Hell 
while  yet  on  earth,  has  covertly  kindled  a  great  matter,  yea 
has  set  on  fire  the  course  of  Nature ;  and  who  here  find 
how  fearful  a  covering  they  have  all  the  while  been  weaving 
for  themselves,  even  a  tongue-shaped  winding-sheet  of  fire 
unquenchable.  Yet  they  retain  a  ghastly  power  of  move- 
ment and  of  speech,  the  tongue  within  actuating  the  flame- 
tongue  without.  —  Pit  9  is  the  shambles  where  Schismatics 
and  Discord-breeders  are  cleft  by  a  sword-bearing  Devil : 
he  stationary  at  a  fixed  point,  they  constrained  to  pace  ever 
round  and  round;  each  time  reaching  the  point  whole, 
each  time  starting  from  it  hacked  and  mutilated  afresh. — 
Pit  10  is  the  lazar-house  of  Falsifiers,  sick  of  various  dis- 
eases, and  so  falsified  in  appearance  and  condition.2  They 
are  divided  into  three  classes,  according  as  they  have  sinned 
in  respect  of  Substance,  of  Semblance,  or  of  Fact.  The 
Falsifiers  of  Substance  are  Alchemists  blotched  with  leprosy, 
and  Coiners  bloated  with  dropsy.  The  Falsifiers  of  Sem- 
blance are  counterfeiters  of  the  person  of  another  for  some 
evil  end  :  these  are  out  of  their  mind  (Itd.fuor  di  se  =  out 
of  self)?  The  Falsifiers  of  Fact  are  malicious  Liars,  fever- 
stricken  and  prostrate.  And  some  are  instruments  of  further 

1  \V.  M.  Rossetti,  Trans.  Hell,  Gen.  Exp.  p.  xxx. 

2  Cayley,  Notes,  p.  109.  8  W.  M.  R.  p.  xxxii. 


Well  of  Giants.     Circle  IX.  Treachery.      59 

suffering  to  others  —  the  sick  by  brawling  and  blows,  the 
mad  by  rabid  biting. 

We  have  reached  the  last  portion  of  the  central  Void, 
the  Well  of  the  Primaeval  Giants.  Its  denizens  are  the 
Nimrod  of  Holy  Scripture,  and  the  Titans  and  other  Giants 
of  classic  fable.  Their  height  may  be  computed  at  about 
seventy  feet ;  their  intellect,  speech,  power,  and  freedom 
are  curtailed  in  inverse  proportion.  Their  position  as  in 
some  sort  demon-sentinels  over  the  entire  region  of  the 
Fraudulent  —  for  their  heads  tower  high  over  the  brink  of 
Evilpits,  while  their  feet  rest  on  the  frozen  bottom  of  the 
Abyss  —  forcibly  suggests  the  retribution  slowly  but  surely 
dogging  the  steps  of  Fraud  as  the  destroyer  of  the  mutual 
trust  on  which  society  is  based ;  namely,  relapse  into  that 
savagery  wherein  brute  force  reigns  supreme. 

And  finally  we  touch  Circle  IX.,  the  pool<Cocytus  ;t  Wail- 
ing, formed  by  the  coalition  of  the"  three  rivers  af  the  point 
where  stagnancy  must  needs  ensue  from  the  non-efxistence 
of  any  lower  level.  But  no  mere  stagnancy  :  Cocytus  is  as 
fast  bound  in  frost  as  are  the  affections  of  the  Traitors 
therein  locked  up.  Lying  like  Evilpits  on  the  slope,  it  is 
rather  a  basin  than  a  plam^oXice ;  and  subdivides  into  four 
Belts,  distinguishable  only  by  the  position  of  its  captives.  — 
Belt  i  is  Caina ;  here  Betrayers  of  their  Kindred  are  im- 
mersed up  to  the  neck.  —  Belt  2  is  Antenora,  named  from 
the  Trojan  Antenor,  who  according  to  one  author  betrayed 
Troy;  here  Betrayers  of  their  Country  are  immersed  up 
to  the  throat.  —  Belt  3  is  Ptolemaea,  named  from  Ptolemy 
the  Younger  who  betrayed  Pompey ;  here  Betrayers  of  their 
Friends  and  Guests  are  fixed,  not  as  the  others,  who  can 
hide  their  faces  by  bending  them  downwards,  but  supine, 


60  Lucifer. 

facjMrjDw_ards  .  an(j  ^e  utter  baseness  of  the  sin  further  sub- 
jects the  soul  committing  it  to  instant  reprobation  in  this 
lowest  pit,  the  body  informed  by  a  devil  still  lingering  on 
earth  till  the  appointed  term  of  life  is  expired.  —  Lastly,  Belt 
4  is  JudecSh;  here  JBetrayers  of  their  Beneficent  Lords. 
whollyim5edded  in  varying  postures,  show .  thnjugh  the  ice 
like  straws  jirijjlass.  Three  of  these  Traitors  however  are 
excepted,  as  we  shall  see  ere  long. 

For  lo,  the  bottom  of  the  Bottomless  Pit :  —  What,  who 
is  there  ? 

Lucifer  onee^is  now>  physically  as  morally  self-centred  : 
half  above  the  ice  and  half  below  it,  so  that  his  middle  cor- 
responds to  the  precise  centre  of  gravity.  How  colossal  his 
frame  we  may  faintly  image  when  we  learn  that  an  ordi- 
nary stature  more  nearly  approaches  the  seventy  feet  of  the 
Giants  in  the  Well  than  those  seventy  feet  the  length  of  his 
jirms.  But  his  ingratitude  is  past  estimation,  past  imagi- 
nation, all  but  infinite  :  nay,  in  a  true  sense,  infinite  —  for 
though  he  be  but  a  creature,  and  so  finite,  and  though  he 
were  originally  endowed,  as  Dante  thinks,  with  the  highest 
of  all  creatures'  gifts,  and  so  his  endowments  were^rimte 
too,  yet  He  Who  created  him  for  Himself  is  Infinite,  and 
the  rejection  of  the  Infinite  must  needs  have  a  character  of 
infinity.  Wherefore  as  by  the  benefit  is  estimated  the  in- 
gratitude, so  by  the  effect  of  that  ingratitude  in  present 
hideousness  the  pristine  beauty;  and  if  such  were  indeed 
the  pristine  beauty,  and  he  who  was  graced  therewith  yet 
rebelled  against  his  Creator  and  Adorner,  duly  is  he  forever 
the  summit  and  the  source  of  mourning.  His  head  is 
triple-faced  —  the  front  face  ruddy,  the  right-shoulder  face 
yellowish,  the  left  black ;  in  symbol  of  his  dominion  over 


The  bowels  of  the  Western  hemisphere.     61 

all  reprobates  from  the  three  parts  of  the  world,  the  com- 
plexions being  respectively  those  of  Europe,  Asia,  and 
Africa.  Beneath  each  face  protrude  two  monstrous  bat- 
wings,  whose  flapping  creates  the  wind  to  freeze  Cocytus. 
In  the  three  mouths  are  the  three  excepted  Traitors  — 
Judas  Iscariot,  Marcus  Brutus,  Cassius ;  the  first  in  the 
front  mouth,  less  tormented  by  the  teeth  than  by  the  hor- 
rible claws  which  tear  him  alone,  and  so  punished  far  more 
than  the  other  two,  here  classed  with  him  as  being  traitors 
against  what  Dante  regarded  as  the  most  sacred  Will  and 
Law  of  the  Almighty,  the  establishment  of  the  Roman 
Empire. 

What  yet  remains?  Not  Hell,  but  Earth;  the  bowels 
of  the  Western  hemisphere.  Beyond  the  centre  of  gravity 
there  is  r>njru?rf  gru'ngjriown. ^butjip.  head  skywards.)  Half 
Lucifer's  body  indeed,  reversed  in  posture,  pollutes  this 
hemisphere,  but,  colossal  as  it  is,  it  is  quickly  left  behind ; 
- — there  is  a  down-flowing  stream,  but  it  can  scarcely  be 
formed  of  matter  more  virulent  than  the  tears  of  contrition 
shed  by  the  already  half-beatified  tenants  of  Purgatory ;  for 
all  sorrow,  pure  and  purifying  though  it  be,  is  yet  in  a  sense 
of  the  earth,  earthy,  and  so  tends  to  the  centre  of  gravity.1 
Earth's  bowels  are  dark,  but  afford  a  way  to  the  light ;  the 


1  G.  Rossetti,  Com,  An.  c.  xxxiv.  t.  44.  My  theory,  wholly  sug- 
gested by  my  father's,  is  yet  not  absolutely  identical  with  his.  He 
thinks  that  '  whatever  sinfulness  is  expiated  in  Purgatory  flows  down 
and  settles  in  the  kingdom  of  sin.'  I  am  inclined  rather  to  suppose 
the  stream  to  consist  of  "the  tears  of  expiation;  the  matter  flowing 
from  Saturn  to  form  the  four  great  infernal  rivers  being  unquestionably 
tears,  but  tears  of  shame  and  mere  human  sorrow. 


62          The  grotesque  element  in  the  Hell. 

upward  path  is  rough,  but  issues  in  the  boundless  Ocean, 
the  reedy  shore,  the  free  air,  the  stars  that  gladden,  and  the 
Mount  that  cleanses. 


Some  there  are  who,  gazing  upon  Dante's  Hell  mainly 
with  their  own  eyes,  are  startled  by  the  grotesque  element 
traceable  throughout  the  Cantica  as  a  whole,  and  shocked 
at  the  even  ludicrous  tone  of  not  a  few  of  its  parts.  Others 
seek  rather  to  gaze  on  Dante's  Hell  with  Dante's  eyes; 
these  discern  in  that  grotesqueness  a  realized  horror,  in  that 
ludicrousness  a  sovereign  contempt  of  evil.  They  keep  in 
mind  that  the  mediaeval  tone  of  thought  bore  fruit  in  the 
grotesque  heads  of  the  lost,  outside  cathedrals,  and  in  a 
spiritual  humorousness  which  was  by  no"  means  excluded 
even  from  sermons ;  yea,  much  more  do  they  remember 
that  the  Divine  Eternal  Wisdom  Himself,  the  Very  and 
Infallible  Truth,  has,  not  once  nor  twice,  characterized 
impiety  and  sin  as  Folly ;  and  they  feel  in  the  depths 
of  the  nature  wherewith  He  has  created  them  that  what- 
ever else  Folly  may  be  and  is,  it  is  none  the  less  essentially 
monstrous  and  ridiculous.  In  this  world  of  shadows  they 
see  it  so,  in  that  world  of  substances  they  imagine  no  cause 
why  it  should  cease  to  be  so ;  nay  why,  amid  the  disen- 
chantments  of  that  atmosphere  of  Truth,  it  should  not 
rather  be  discerned  as  more  so.  A  sense  of  the  utter  degra- 
dation, loathsomeness,  despicableness  of  the  soul  which  by 
deadly  sin  besots  Reason  and  enslaves  Free  Will  passes 
from  the  Poet's  mind  into  theirs  ;  while  the  ghastly  definite- 
ness  and  adaptation  of  the  punishments  enables  them  to 


D antes  loathing  of  evil  6  3 

touch  with  their  finger  the  awful  possibility  and  actuality  of 
the  Second  Death,  and  thus  for  themselves  as  for  others  to 
dread  it  more  really,  to  deprecate  it  more  intensely.  Dante's 
Lucifer  does  appear  '  less  than  Archangel  ruined,'  immeas- 
urably less;  for  he  appears  Seraph  wilfully  fallen.  No 
illusive  splendor  is  here  to  dazzle  eye  and  mind  into  sym- 
pathy with  rebellious  pride ;  no  vagueness  to  shroud  in 
mist  things  fearful  or  things  abominable.  Dante's  Devils 
are  hateful  and  hated,  Dante's  reprobates  loathsome  and 
loathed,  despicable  and  despised,  or  at  best  miserable 
and  commiserated.  In  t^ie_one  solitary  instance  of  Fran- 
cesca  da  Rimini  an  unheedful  reader  might  possibly  sup- 
pose the  Poet  to  sympathize  with  lawless  love ;  but  a 
careful  student  will  discern  abhorrence  of  moral  corruption 
combined  with  compassion  for  sore  temptation  and  griev- 
ous suffering.  If,  in  a  few  other  exceptional  cases,  noble- 
ness of  character  yet  hangs  about  any  of  the  lost,  it  is  in 
points  wholly  distinct  from  the  sin  which  has  been  their 


destruction.     Dante  is  guiltless  of  seducing  any  soul  of  man 
towards  making  or  calling  Evil  his  Good. 


CHAPTER  VI. 
DANTE'S  PILGRIMAGE  THROUGH  HELL. 

O  tu  die  se'  per  quest'  Inferno  tratto. 

O  thou  that  art  conducted  through  this  Hell. 

Inf.  vi.  40. 

WE  left  Dante  at  the  moment  when  Virgil's  cheering 
speech  had  given  him  courage  to  enter  on  the 
eternal  world.  The  awful  inscription  over  the  Gate  of 
Hell,  seeming  to  deny  him  hope,  did  indeed  wellnigh 
drive  him  back  again ;  but  a  further  word  and  touch 
nerved  him  for  the  first  sounds  that  struck  upon  his  ear  — 
the  wailings  of  the  Neutrals  in  the  Ante-Hell :  — 

Here  lamentations,  sighs,  and  strident  howls, 
Resounded  through  the  air  without  a  star  — 
Whence  I,  at  the  beginning,  wept  thereat. 
Differing  tongues  and  horrid  utterances, 
And  words  of  anguish  and  the  tones  of  rage, 
High  and  hoarse  voices,  and  with  them  a  sound 
Of  hands,  a  tumult  made  which  circulates 
Aye  in  that  air  without  a  season  dyed, 
Like  to  the  sand  whenas  the  whirlwind  blows. 

Inf.  in.  22-30. 

Instructed  by  Virgil,  Dante,  refraining  from  the  full  grati- 
fication of  his  curiosity  respecting  these  miserable  caitiffs, 
lest  he  should  mitigate  their  sentence  of  hopeless  obscurity, 


Dante  crosses  Acheron  into  Limbo.        65 

transferred  his  attention  to  the  crowd  gathering  on  the 
brink  of  Acheron.  Charon  at  first,  seeing  a  living  man,  and 
knowing  him  to  be  predestined  to  glory,  commanded  him 
to  withdraw  from  among  the  dead ;  but  Virgil  had  instant 
recourse  to  a  formula  often  needed  and  often  in  substance 
repeated  during  this  grisly  descent : 

So  is  it  willed  there  where 's  the  power  to  do 
That  which  is  willed  ;  and  thou  demand  no  more. 

in.  95, 96. 

The  boat  then  crossed  with  its  mournful  freight,  Dante 
remaining  behind  to  be  first  enlightened  and  comforted 
by  his  Master's  explanation  of  the  scene  he  had  witnessed, 
and  of  the  true  ground  of  Charon's  refusal  to  ferry  him 
over ;  —  then  to  feel  the  dark  tear- soaked  champaign  quake 
under  his  feet,  and  in  a  state  of  insensibility  to  be  trans- 
ferred, how  he  knew  not,  to  the  farther  shore.  His  first 
consciousness  was  of  impenetrable  mist,  his  second  of 
Virgil's  sympathetic  pallor,  his  third  of  the  ceaseless  sighs 
which,  proceeding  from  the  vast  multitudes  of  both  sexes 
and  all  ages  that  people  Limbo,  stir  brooding  stillness  into 
tremulous  breeze. 

Said  the  good  lord  to  me  :  '  Thou  askest  not 
What  Spirits  may  be  these  whom  thou  dost  see  ? 
I  will  now,  ere  thou  goest  on,  thou  know 
They  did  not  sin  :  —  and,  if  they  had  good  works, 
'T  is  not  enough,  for  baptism  they  had  not, 
The  door  unto  the  faith  which  thou  believ'st : 
And,  if  they  were  before  Christianity, 
They  did  not  adequately  worship  God  :  — 
And  even  of  these  same  am  I  myself. 
For  such  defaults,  and  not  for  other  guilt, 
5 


66  Our  Lord's  descent  into  Hell. 

We're  lost,  and  only  are  by  thus  much  pained  — 
That  in  desire  we  live,  but  not  in  hope.' 

Great  grief,  when  I  had  heard  him,  took  my  heart, 
Because  I  knew  that  people  of  much  worth 
Must  be  suspended  in  the  limbo  there. 

'  Do  thou,  my  master,  tell  me  —  tell  me,  lord  — ' 

Began  I,  for  that  I  might  so  be  sure 

About  that  faith  which  conquers  error  quite, 

'  Went  any  ever  hence,  or  by  his  own 

Or  other's  merit,  who  was  after  blessed  ? ' 

And  he,  who  understood  my  covert  speech, 

Replied :  '  In  this  condition  I  was  new 

When  hither  I  saw  come  One  Powerful 

Incoronate  with  sign  of  victory. 

He  took  from  us  the  Primal  Parent's  Shade, 

Abel  his  son's,  and  that  of  Noah  too, 

Of  Moses,  legist  and  obedient, 

Abraham  patriarch,  and  David  king, 

Israel,  with  his  father  and  his  sons, 

And  Rachel,  her  for  whom  he  did  so  much ; 

And  others  many  :  —  and  He  made  them  blessed. 

And  I  would  have  thee  know  that,  before  them, 

There  had  not  been  a  human  spirit  saved.' 

iv.  31-63. 

In  prolonged  converse  Virgil  and  Dante  passed  through 
the  wood  of  ghosts  till  they  drew  near  the  home  of  the  more 
exalted  Spirits ;  and  while  Virgil  was  yet  replying  to  his 
follower's  eager  question  — 

In  the  mean  time  a  voice  was  heard  by  me  : 
'The  most  high  poet  honor  ye  :  his  Shade, 
Which  had  departed,  is  returning  now.' 


The  School  of  Poets.  6  7 

Whenas  the  voice  was  quiet  and  at  rest, 
I  four  great  Shadows  saw  come  unto  us  ; 
Semblance  had  they  nor  sorrowful  nor  glad. 

The  noble  master  then  began  to  say : 
'  Him  with  that  sword  behold  thou  in  his  hand, 
Who  comes,  as  it  were  sire,  before  the  three : 
That  one  is  Homer,  poet  sovereign. 
The  other  is  Horace  satirist  who  comes  ; 
Ovid  the  third ;  and  Lucan  is  the  last. 
Because  that  each  one  shares  along  with  me 
In  the  same  name  the  single  voice  did  sound, 
They  do  me  honor,  and  thereby  do  well.' 

Assembled  thus  the  goodly  school  I  saw 
Of  him,  the  master  x  of  the  most  high  song, 
Who  o'er  the  others  like  an  eagle  flies. 
When  somewhat  they  together  had  discoursed, 
They  turned  to  me  with  gesture  of  salute  ; 
My  master  also  smiling  at  the  same. 
And  more  they  did  me  honor  yet  by  much  ; 
For  so  they  made  me  of  their  company 
That  I  became,  'mid  so  much  mind,  the  sixth. 
Thus  went  we  on  as  far  as  to  the  light, 
Conversing  matters  which  to  hush  is  good, 
As,  where  I  was,  the  speaking  them  was  so. 

iv.  79~I05- 

After  passing  in  review  the  dignified  inhabitants  of  the 
Castle,  and  being  permanently  ennobled  in  his  own  eyes  by 

1  '  It  is  questioned  whether  this  "  master  "  is  Homer  or  Virgil.  Chro- 
nology and  modern  appreciation  would  conclude  for  the  first.  If  we 
consider  the  three  companions  of  Homer  to  constitute  the  "school "  to 
the  exclusion  of  Virgil,  we  may  do  the  same  :  scarcely  otherwise  from 
E  ante's  point  of  view.' 


68  Francesca  da  Rimini :  Ciacco. 

the  sight,  he  was  led  by  another  way  back  into  the  trem- 
bling atmosphere.  Thence  passing  the  demon  Judge  Minos, 
not  unwarned  by  him,  Dante  found  himself  encompassed 
with  the  stormy  howjjng^darkness  of  Circle  IL^)  Deep  was 
his  compassion  as  Virgil  pointed  out  among  the  victims  of 
TrUfr^llfirr^  rnany  who  had  peopled  his  memory  and 
imagination  from  childhood  upwards  —  Semiramis,  Dido  and 
Cleopatra,  Helen  and  Achilles,  Paris  and  Tristram.  But 
worse  was  to  come.  For  here  suffered  a  friend's  kins- 
woman,. Francesca  da  Rimini,  coupled  with  Paolo  Malatesta 
in  the  soul's  death  no  less  than  in  the  body's.  It  is  said 
that,  deceived  by  her  father,  she  had  given  hand  and  heart 
to  this  handsome  accomplished  youth,  and  all  top  late  had 
found  that  he  was  but  proxy  for  her  real  husband,  his 
deformed  and  repulsive  brother(Gianciotto!)  As  now,  in  a 
lull  of  the  tempest,  she  told  how  the  sin  of  an  unguarded 
moment  had  been  ays^g^~^y~^2^do^s_J^idf  her 
words  and  her  lover's  tears  affected . Dante  to  fainting;  as 
one  dead  he  fell  to  the  earth,  and^onjecovering  conscious- 
ness found  himself  already  in  OrclelljJ)  To  Cerberus  *s 
currish  menaces  Virgil  deigned  no  reply  save  that  of  two 
handfuls  of  earth  cast  into  his  cavernous  jaws;  and  the 
Poets  walked  on,  placing  their  feet  on  the  limp  shades  of 
the  rain-drenched  Gluttons.  One  of  these,  the  Florentine 
Ciacco^  sitting  up  as  he  recognized  a  fellow-citizen,  held 
detailed  converse  with  him  respecting  public  and  private 
matters  both  past  and  future ;  and  excited  his  pity,  though 
not  beyond  an  inclination  to  tears.  The  colloquy  was 
suddenly  broken  off  by  Ciacco  losing  the  power  of  speech, 
and  dropping  back  flat  into  the  slush,  to  emerge  thence  no 
more  till  roused  by  the  Last  Trumpet. 


Discourse  concerning  Fortune.  69 

Having  led  his  disciple,  as  always  in  Hell,  towards  the 
left  along  an  arc  equal  to  the  ninth  part  of  the  Circle, 
on  reaching  the  steps  of  descent  Virgil  had  to  repel  the 
resistance  of  Plutus  before  entering  on  Circle (TVj  Dante, 
feeling  some  slight  pricks  of  compassion,  inquired  respect- 
ing its  tenants,  and  expressed  surprise  at  not  recognizing 
any  of  the  Misers  and  Spendthrifts  he  had  known  on  earth. 
This  phenomenon  and  the  nature  of  their  punishment  being 
explained,  Fortune  and  her  dealings  were  thus  discoursed 
of  for  his  comfort  under  impending  spoliation  and  banish- 
ment :  — 

'  Thou  now  mayst  see,  my  son,  the  transient  puff 
Of  goods  which  unto  Fortune  are  consigned, 
For  which  the  human  race  perturbs  itself ; 
For  all  the  gold  that  is  beneath  the  moon, 
Or  that  once  was,  of  these  outweary  souls 
Could  not  make  any  one  of  them  to  pause.' 

1  Master,'  I  said  to  him,  'now  tell  me  still : 
This  fortune,  whereon  thou  dost  touch  to  me, 
What  is 't,  that  has  the  world's  goods  so  in  clutch  ? ' 

And  he  to  me  :  *  How  great  that  ignorance  is, 

0  foolish  creatures,  which  encumbers  ye  ! 

1  '11  have  thee  now  digest  my  text  thereof. 

The  One  Whose  wisdom  transcends  everything 
He  made  the  heavens,  and  gave  them  who  conducts, 
So  that  to  every  part  shines  every  part,1 
Distributing  the  light  coequally. 
Unto  the  mundane  splendors  He  alike 
Ordained  a  general  ministrant  and  chief, 

1  Every  part  of  Heaven  to  every  part  of  Earth. 


70  The  bank  of  Styx. 

Who  should  in  time  the  vain  possessions  change 
From  race  to  race,  from  one  to  other  blood, 
Beyond  preclusion  of  the  human  wits  ; 
Wherefore  one  people  rules,  one  languishes, 
All  in  accordance  to  the  doom  of  her, 
Which  is  occult,  as  in  the  grass  the  snake. 
To  her  your  wisdom  has  no  hindering  : 
She  doth  provide,  and  judge,  and  prosecute 
Her  reign,  as  even  theirs  the  other  gods. 
Her  permutations  have  not  any  truce ; 
Necessity  constrains  her  to  be  swift, 
So  oft  comes  he  who  proves  vicissitude. 
And  this  is  she  who  's  put  on  cross  so  much 
Even  by  them  who  ought  to  give  her  praise, 
Giving  her  wrongly  ill  repute  and  blame. 
But  she  is  blessed,  and  she  hears  not  this  : 
She,  with  the  other  primal  creatures,  glad 
Revolves  her  sphere,  and  blessed  joys  herself.' 

vii.  61-96. 

It  was  now  past  midnight ;  and  time  pressed.  —  The  next 
descent  described  is  not  by  steps,  but  by  the  slope  down 
which  Styx  is  flowing  till  it  settles  into  the  stagnant  pool 
that  constitutes  Circle  V.,  and  serves  for  a  moat  to  the 
fortified  City  of  Dis.  Here  Dante  saw  the  Wrathful  tearing 
e^cji_oth^_rjiecemeal,  and  heard  of  the  Melancholy  buried 
in  the  black  mud  at  thejaottom  ;  the  only  visible  token  of 
their  presence  being  the  bubbling  caused  on  the  surface  by 
their  sighs  from  beneath.  The  Poets,  having  walked  along 
a  considerable  arc  of  the  space  left  dry  between  the  solid 
wall  and  the  water,  found  themselves  at  last  at  the  foot  of 
a  tower,  a  kind  of  outwork  of  Dis,  which  could  only  be 
reached  by  crossing  the  pool.  Their  gaze  had  already 


The  passage  towards  the  City  of  Dis.      71 

been  attracted  to  the  summit  of  this  tower  by  the  sudden 
appearance  of  two  flames,  the  demon-sentinels  within  hav- 
ing taken  them  for  condemned  Souls  who  must  be  ferried 
over  to  their  allotted  prison,  and  having  therefore  signalled 
to  certain  comrades  in  Dis  —  who  counter-signalled  by  a  third 
flame,  on  account  of  distance  barely  discernible  —  to  send 
the  boat.  It  was  soon  seen  almost  flying  towards  them, 
steered  by  the  dejiipjj^jDJl^^  who  having  in  life 

vengefully  burned  the  temple  of  Apollo,  belongs  to  the 
Impious  no  less  than  to  the  Wrathful.  Furiously  he  exulted 
in  his  supposed  prey  —  sorely  was  galled  at  learning  his  mis- 
take. He  could  not  however  avoid  receiving  into  his 
boat  these  unexampled  passengers,  the  one  of  whom  actu- 
ally loaded  it  and  depressed  its  prow. 

While  we  were  running  over  the  dead  sluice, 

One  did  there  get  before  me  full  of  mud, 

And  said  :  «  Who  'rt  thou  who  com'st  before  the  hour  ? ' 

And  I  to  him  :  «  I  stay  not,  if  I  come  : 
But  who  art  thou,  become  so  hideous  ? ' 

*  Thou  seest,'  he  answered,  '  that  I  'm  one  which  weep.' 

And  I  to  him  :  'With  weeping  and  with  grief, 
Accursed  spirit,  so  continue  thou  ; 
For  thee  I  know,  all  filthy  as  thou  art.' 

He  then  upon  the  boat  stretched  both  his  hands  : 
Wherefore  the  master  pushed  him  dextrously, 
Saying :  '  Away  hence,  with  the  other  dogs  ! ' 
He  then  embraced  with  both  his  arms  my  neck  ; 
He  kissed  my  face,  and  said  :  '  Indignant  soul, 
Blessed  the  woman  who  with  thee  was  big  ! 


72  Filippo  Argenti. 

This  was  a  haughty  person  in  the  world  ; J 
No  good  there  is  which  decks  his  memory  : 
Thus  is  bis  spirit  herein  furious. 
How  many  hold  them  now  aloft  great  kings 
Who  here  will  have  to  be  like  pigs  in  slush, 
Of  themselves  leaving  horrible  misfame.' 

And  I  :  '  My  master,  greatly  fain  I  were 
To  see  him  in  a  smother  in  this  broth, 
Before  that  we  shall  issue  from  the  lake.' 

And  he  unto  me :  *  Ere  the  landing-place 
Shall  let  thee  see  it,  thou  'It  be  satisfied  : 
Such  wish  it  will  behoove  that  thou  enjoy.* 

Soon  after  this,  I  saw  that  massacre 
Made,  by  the  muddy  people,  of  this  man, 
That  God  I  still  do  therefore  praise  and  thank. 
*  Upon  Filippo  Argenti ! '  all  cried  out : 
The  uncouth  spirit  of  the  Florentine 
Turned  with  his  teeth  against  himself  himself. 

vin.  31-63- 

We  really  cannot  help  asking  here,  Is  it  possible  to  sym- 
pathize with  this  delight  of  the  disciple,  or  this  rewarding 
embrace  of  the  Master  ?  Can  that  be  purely  righteous 
indignation  which  issues  in  conduct  so  much  too  like  that 
of  the  offender  himself  ? 

By  this  time  the  Poets  were  near  enough  to  Dis  to  per- 
ceive the  sound  of  wailing  and  discern  the  mosque-shaped 
fire-reddened  turrets;  the  pilot  however  had  still  to  steer 
some  way  round  before  reaching  the  point  of  disembarka- 

1  '  Filippo  Argenti,  stated  by  Boccaccio  to  have  been  noted  for  bodily 
vigor  and  furious  temper.' 


Demons  and  Furies  oppose  the  Poets.       73 

tion.  At  the  gates  stood  more  than  a  thousand  of  those 
rebel  Angels  aforetime  rained  down  from  Heaven,  now 
despitefully  saying  among  themselves,  '  Who  is  this  that 
without  death  is  going  through  the  kingdom  of  the  dead?' 
In  reply,  the  guiding  Sage  indicated  his  wish  for  a  private 
colloquy;  this  was  granted,  but  with  a  threat  of  retaining 
him  in  the  city  while  his  pupil  should  retrace  the  way 
alone.  Dante,  utterly  disheartened,  adjured  his  only  helper 
rather  to  relinquish  the  enterprise  and  instantly  lead  him 
back  to  the  land  of  the  living ;  but  the  answer  forbade  fear, 
and  enjoined  assured  confidence  in  the  success  of  the  God- 
granted  pilgrimage.  In  most  anxious  suspense  he  now 
began  to  watch  the  parley  he  could  not  hear ;  —  but  anon 
the  adverse  demons  hurried  back  into  the  fortress,  shut- 
ting the  door  in  his  leader's  face.  Yet  Virgil,  grieved  and 
humbled  as  he  was,  ceased  not  to  infuse  hope,  grounded 
on  the  certainty  that  One  without  guide  or  escort  was 
already  traversing  the  Circles  behind  them  to  their  aid  • 
thotfgh  under  the  circumstances  no  entrance  could  be 
effected  without  wrath. 

And  more  he  said  :  but  I  've  it  not  in  mind  ; 
Because  I  wholly  had  mine  eye  updrawn 
Toward  the  high  turret  with  the  red-hot  top  ; 
Where  in  an  instant  upright  fast  I  saw 
Infernal  Furies  three,  bedyed  with  blood, 
Who  had  their  limbs  and  action  feminine, 
And  who  with  greenest  hydras  were  engirt : 
They  had  small  serpents  for  their  hair,  and  asps, 
Wherewith  the  savage  temples  were  imbound. 

And  he,  who  well  knew  them  the  abject  ones 
Unto  the  queen  of  the  eternal  plaint, 


74  The  head  of  Gorgon  displayed*. 

'  Look,'  said  to  me,  '  the  fierce  Erinnyes. 

Megaera  this  one  is  upon  the  left ; 

That  is  Alecto  on  the  right,  who  weeps  ; 

P  the  midst  Tisiphone  :  '  and  here  he  stopped. 

Each  one  was  harrowing  with  her  nails  her  breast: 
They  clashed  their  palms,  and  cried  so  loudly  out, 
That  to  the  poet  I  strained  me,  for  dismay. 
'  Let  come  Medusa  !  So  we  '11  make  him  smalt,'  — 
They,  looking  downwards,  uttered  all  of  them  : 
'  On  Theseus  we  revenged  the  assault  not  ill.'1 

'  Turn  thyself  back,  and  keep  thy  vision  hid  ; 
For,  if  the  Gorgon  show,  and  thou  behold, 
JT  would  all  be  o'er  with  e'er  returning  up.' 
So  did  the  master  say  ;  and  he  himself 
Turned  me,  and  to  my  own  hands  trusted  not, 
But  that  with  his  too  he  should  cover  me. 
O  you  that  have  a  sane  intelligence, 
Look  ye  unto  the  doctrine  which  herein 
Conceals  itself  'neath  the  strange  verses'  veil. 

And  now  was  coming  o'er  the  turbid  waves 

A  rumor  of  a  sound  replete  with  dread, 

Because  of  which  the  banks  were  trembling  both; 

Not  made  in  other  wise  than  of  a  wind 

Impetuous  by  dint  o'  the  adverse  heats, 

Which  smites  the  forest  without  any  stay, 

Rends  boughs,  and  beats  them  down,  and  bears  along  ; 

Dusty  to  vanward,  on  it  goes  superb, 

And  makes  the  animals  and  shepherds  flee. 

He  loosed  mine  eyes,  and  said  :  '  Now  turn  the  nerve 

1  '  When  Theseus  and  Pirithous  attempted  to  carry  Proserpine  off 
from  Hell.' 


> 

The  Celestial  Messenger  0 


Of  vision  up  along  that  ancient  foam, 
By  yonder  where  that  smoke  is  acridest.' 

Like  as  the  frogs  before  the  hostile  snake 
Scud  off  along  the  water  one  and  all, 
Until  upon  the  soil  each  of  them  squats,  — 
I  saw  more  than  a  thousand  Souls  destroyed 
Fly  thus  in  front  of  one  who  at  the  ford 
Was  passing  over  Styx  with  unwet  soles. 
He  from  his  face  was  moving  that  gross  air, 
Plying  the  left  hand  oftentimes  in  front, 
And  only  with  that  anguish  seemed  he  tired. 
I  well  perceived  he  was  one  sent  from  heaven, 
And  to  the  master  turned  :  and  he  made  sign 
I  should  stay  quiet,  and  to  him  should  bow. 
Ah  !  of  disdain  how  full  he  to  me  seemed  ! 
He  reached  the  gate,  and  with  a  little  wand 
Oped  it,  that  there  was  no  impediment. 

'  O  ye  cast  out  of  heaven,  a  refuse  race,' 

Upon  the  horrible  threshold  he  began, 

'Whence  nurtureth  in  you  this  insolence  ? 

Wherefore  'gainst  that  Volition  do  ye  kick 

To  which  its  end  can  never  be  curtailed, 

And  which  hath  oft  augmented  pain  to  you  ? 

What  booteth  it  to  butt  against  the  fates  ? 

Your  Cerberus,  if  ye  recollect  it  well, 

Keeps  yet  therefrom  his  chin  and  throttle  peeled.' 

Then  he  turned  back  along  the  noisome  path, 
And  word  to  us  spoke  none  ;  but  semblance  made 
Of  a  man  whom  other  care  constrains  and  bites 
Than  that  of  him  who  is  before  his  face. 
And  we  toward  the  fortress  moved  our  feet, 

Secure  in  sequel  of  the  holy  words. 

IX.  34-105. 


76  The  entombed  So^lls  in  Dis. 

Quite  unopposed  the  Poets  now  entered  Circle  VI.,  the 
jT1fy  pf  nig  ;  and  Dante  beheld  it  one  vast  burial-ground  of 


Infidel  and  Heretical  Souls,  bristling  with  tombs  like  the 
cemeteries  of  Aries  and  Pola,  but  after  a  more  bitter 
fashion,  these  tombs  being  all  red-hot  from  the  action  of 
fires  scattered  up  and  down  among  them.  Speaking  the 
Tuscan  dialect  as  he  passed  along,  he  heard  himself  called 
by  a  voice  issuing  from  a  sepulchre  where  lay  more  than  a 
thousand  Epicureans,  among  them  the  Emperor  Frederick 
II.  The  voice  was  that  of  the  noble  Florentine  Farmaia^-  -> 
degli  Uberti,  who  nearly  five  years  before  Dante's  birth 
had  as  the  Ghibelline  leader  defeated  the  Guelphs  at 
Montaperti,  had  returned  in  triumph  from  banishment,  and 
had  then  alone  and  successfully  withstood  his  own  party  in 
their  parricidal  desire  to  destroy  their  native  city.  Long 
and  deep  was  this  patriot's  converse  with  his  fellow-citizen, 
soon  like  himself,  as  he  plainly  predicted,  to  be  an  exile, 
soon  like  his  descendants,  now  in  banishment,  to  experience 
the  difficulty  of  returning.  Once  indeed  the  discourse  was 
interrupted  by  Cavalcante  de'  Cavalcanti,  buried  in  the  same 
sepulchre,  starting  up  to  ask  news  of  his  son,  Dante's 
His  ignorance  of  the  present,  whereas  Ciacco 


had  known  the  future,1  so  perplexed  his  interlocutor  as  to 
delay  the  answer;  and  the  miserable  father,  attributing 
this  delay  to  unwillingness  to  tell  him  of  his  son's  death, 
sank  down  again  in  sorest  grief.  Farinata  then  took  up 
his  own  thread  just  where  it  had  been  broken  off,  and 
having  subsequently  explained  the  mystery  of  the  knowledge 
of  the  lost,  was  intrusted  with  a  message  of  information  and 
comfort  to  his  fellow-prisoner  ;  for  Guido  yet  lived,  though 
fated  soon  to  die. 

1  See  page  49. 


The  Blood-River  and  the  Dolorous  Wood.     77 

The  Poets,  having  _tra^ejrsej^he^_breadth  of  Pis,  now 
stood  on  the  edge  of  a  kind  of  parapet  guarding  the  central 
Voidf)  The  stench  rising  from  the  lower  Circles  was  here 
so  putrid  as  to  compel  them  to  seek  temporary  shelter 
behind  a  high  tomb;  and  the  consequent  delay  in  their 
descent  furnished  opportunity  for  Virgil  to  instruct  his  pupil 
in  that  classification  of  sins  under  the  heads  of  Inconti- 
nence. Bestialism.  anr^  MaJirpj  with  which  the  reader  is 
already  familiar. 

Twent£-twq_  hours  had  by  this  time  elapsed  since  the 
opening  of  the  poem  —  twelve  in  the  Wgoj^_ten_  Jn  Hell  ^ 
Good  Friday  was  dawning  on  Earth,  and  further  lingering 
might  not  be ;  wherefore  the  Pilgrims  commenced  their 
frightful  precipitous  descent.  The  ^furious  Minotaur  beset 
their  path,  but  only  to  be  utterly  contemned  by  Virgil,  and 
by  blind  raging  to  afford  Dante  an  opportunity  of  getting 
down  unmolested  till  he  stood  close  under  the  outer  wall  of 
Circle  VII.,  and  beheld  the  ghastly  Blood-river  Phlegethon, 
which  forms  its  outmost  Ring.  His  progress  was  opposed 
by  the  Centaur  Nessusj  but  Virgil's  appeal  to  Chiron, 
exempt  by  his  birth  and  career  on  earth  from  the  brute 
violence  of  his  race,  obtained  the  opponent  for  a  guide. 
Many  were  the  tyrants  and  blood- shedders  of  days  recent 
or  long,  long  gone  by,  pointed  out  in  the  deeps  of  the 
streams ;  many  indeed  the  petty  oppressors  and  marauders 
recognized  in  its  shallows.  Where  the  feet  only  were  cov- 
ered was  the  ford,  over  which  Nessus  carried  Dante  on  his 
back,  while  Virgil  cleft  the  air.  They  found  themselves  in 
the  Dolorous  Wood,  pathless,  thicker  set  than  the  Tuscan 
Maremma,  itTTeaves  dusky,  its  boughs  knotty  and  twisted, 
its  sole  product  poison- distilling  thorns  :  harpies  its  nest- 


78     Pier  delle  Vigne  and  certain  Spendthrifts. 

building  birds,  its  music  their  meanings  blended  with  those 
of  the  trees  they  prey  upon.  Virgil,  desirous  to  undeceive 
his  pupil  of  the  imagination  that  these  moans  proceeded 
from  persons  hidden  in  the  Wood,  —  and  also  unable  to  re- 
sist the  tempt^tiort  tn  qstafrlish  as  fact  his  own  fiction  of  the 
bleeding  of  the  myrtle  into  which  folydorusJiad  been^mpj^-. 
morphose^, —  suggested  the  plucking  of  a  twig ;  but  instantly 
repented  when  blood  sprang  and  sorest  plaints  issued  from 
the  wounded  tree  —  the  prison-body  of  Pier  delle  Vigne, 
Chancellor  to  the  Emperor  Frederick  II.  Envv^Jjthe^ 
commoiL  death  _and  vice :  of  jCp_urtS,'  had  fastened  her  eyes 
on  this  beloved  and  trusted  counsellor  till  at  length  she 
succeeded  in  maligning  him  to  the  cruel  Prince  his  mas- 
ter, by  whom  lie  was  condemned  to  a  course  of  torture 
and  ignominy,  begun  with  blindness  and  destined  to  end  in 
death.  That  'end  however  came  far  sooner  than  was  in- 
tended, for  the  victim  himself  dashed  his  head  against  his 
prison-wall.  He  now  found  some  comfort  in  detailing  his 
mournful  history  to  such  sympathizing  listeners,  while  he 
far  more  briefly  answered  their  inquiries  respecting  the 
state  of  the  tree-bound  Souls.  The  colloquy  was  at  length 
suddenly  broken  off  by  the  precipitous  flight  of  two  hound- 
hunted  Shades  of  wanton,  obstinate  Spendthrifts,  naked  and 
thorn-scratched,  through  the  Wood.  The  one,  Lano,  had 
rapidly  wasted  a  rich  patrimony,  till  at  length,  having  fallen 
into  an  ambush,  he  desperately  rushed  among  enemies 
from  whom  he  might  have  escaped  :  —  the  other,  Jacopo  di 
Sant'  Andrea,  is  recorded  to  have  thrown  his  money,  coin 
by  coin,  into  the  river,  by  way  of  something  to  do;  to 
have  set  alight  his  tenants'  cottages  as  a  bonfire-^to  welcome 
his  guests,  and  to  have  burned  down  his  own  magnificent 


The  Sand-  Waste :  the  Blasphemers.        79 

house  in  Padua  as  a  spectacle  to  his  fellow-citizens.  This 
hunted  madman  squatted  under  a  bush,  but  was  none  the 
less  torn  piecemeal  by  the  hounds,  the  bush  also  coming  in 
for  its  share  of  suffering.  It  incorporated  an  unnamed 
Florentine  suicide,  suspected  by  the  commentators  of  hav- 
ing killed  himself  to  escape  the  poverty  surely  coming 
upon  a  prodigal;  and  Dante,  constrained  by  the  love  of 
their  common  birthplace,  complied  with  his  request  to  have 
his  leaves  gathered  up  and  restored  to  him.  —  Soon  the 
Pilgrims  found  themselves  on__the  confines  of  the  Sand- 
Waste,  though  still  compelled  to  keep  just  within  the  Wood, 
to  avoid  the  scathing  of  the  fire-flakes  and  the  scorching  of 
the  sand.  Here  among  the  supine  Blasphemers  they  noted 
the  untamable  Capaneus  ;  then  passing  beyond  him  reached 
a  spot  where  Dante  descried,  with  a  shudder  renewed  as  in 
after  years  he  wrote  of  it,  Phlegethon  reappearing  as  a 
boiling  Blood-brook  to  traverse  the  desert  plain.  The 
stream  having  petrified  its  bed  and  banks,  he  perceived 
that  there  must  lie  the  passage  across ;  yet  lingered  awhile 
to  hear  of  the  origin  of  the  Infernal  Rivers.  He  then 
followed  his  Guide  along  the  stone  embankment,  the  humid 
exhalation  spreading  wide  enough  to  extinguish  instantly 
whatever  flames  might  fall  upon  it,  and  so  preventing  its 
becoming  heated  like  the  sand.  Already  had  the  Poets 
left  the  Wood  too  far  behind  to  be  discernible,  when  they 
fell  in  with  a  troop  of  Shades  walking.  One  of  these,  for 
all  the  fire's  scathing,  was  recognizable  as  Dante's  old  tutor. 
Brunetto  Latini,  eminent  as  politician,  as  philosopher,  and 
as  author  of  the  encyclopaedic  Tesoro  and  the  allegorical 
Tesoretto.  As  no  other  contemporary  record  accuses  him 
of  any  crime,  it  has  been  thought  that  £olitical_  mpiiy.es 


8o  Geryon  :  the  Usurers. 

may  have  led  to  his  location  here;  especially  as  he  is 
spoken  of  throughout  the  passage  with  tenderest  reverence 
and  love.  Side  by  side  for  a  time  tutor  and  scholar  walked 
and  conversed,  then  once  more  parted  company ;  and  after 
some  further  encounters  the  Pilgrims  reached  the  point 
where  Phlegeihon  becomes  an  almost  deafening  torrent, 
rusliing  down  the  central  Void.  Standing  by  its  brink, 
Dante  was  commanded  to  loose  his  cord-girdle  ;  and  Virgil, 
receiving  it  coiled,  threw  it  down  the  precipice.  Before 
long  the  loathsome  appalling  monster  Geryon  came  up  and 
landed  his  trunk  on  the  stone  dam,  while  his  tail  darted 
about,  sting  upwards,  in  the  hollow. —  During  the  Master's 
parley  with  him,  the  disciple  went  alone  to  gaze  upon  the 
Usurers,  who,  seated  along  the  edge  of  the  sand,  were  fight- 
ing off  the  burning  heat  with  their  hands  as  best  they  might. 
Not  one  was  recognized  by  his  face,  but  heraldic  bearings 
on  purses  hanging  from  their  necks  afforded  a  clew  for  their 
identification.  These,  bordering  on  Fraud  both  in  offence 
and  in  place,  are  in  tastes  and  manners  the  meanest  sinners 
yet  encountered :  but  plenty  of  their  compeers  will  be  met 
with  below.  Dante,  content,  as  Virgil  had  counselled,  with 
a  passing  glance  at  them,  on  retracing  his  few  solitary  steps 
found  his  Leader  already  seated  on  the  foul  monster's  back, 
and  with  sinking  heart  and  failing  voice  obeyed  the  order 
to  mount  in  front,  so  as  to  be  shielded  from  too  probable 
Jtail-treachery.  As  soon  as  mounted  he  felt  himself  firmly 
embraced,  and  heard  a  charge  given  to  Geryon  to  descend 
gradually,  out  of  consideration  for  so  unwonted  a  burden. 
The  downward  course  accordingly  proceeded  so  gently  that 
the  motion  was  rendered  sensible  only  by  the  wind  in  the 
rider's  face  and  beneath  him ;  but  it  was  a  sore  trial  to  see 


Evilpits  :  Jason,  Thais,  Pope  Nicholas  III.    8 1 

nought  save  Geryon's  form,  hear  nought  save  Phlegethon's 
gurgling  and  plunging,  and  when  at  last  eye  and  ear  sought 
to  dive  into  the  depth,  perceive  nought  save  fires  and  wail- 
ings.  Both  riders  were  finally  set  down  close  under  the 
earth-wall ;  the  hateful  beast  shot  away  like  an  arrow  from 
a  bow ;  and  Evilpits  lay  before  them. 

In  Pijfjyhey  beheld  Jason  scourged  for  his  successive 
abandonment  of  Hypsipyle  and  Medea :  —  in  Pit^VHrhai's 
paying  the  penalty  of  her  base  flattery  of  Thraso.  —  Into  Pit 
''J'^pante,  whose  curiosity  was  excited  by  the  exceptional 
sufferings  of  one  of  the  imbursed  Simoniacs,  wished  to 
descend.  The  descent,  as  in  every  subsequent  instance 
save  one,  was  effected  by  the  Poets  first  crossing  in  its 
whole  length  the  bridge  spanning  the  pit,  and  by  Virgil 
then  carrying  his  pupil  down  —  as  afterwards  again  up  —  the 
inner  wall,  which  in  each  pit  offers  a  more  gradual  slope 
than  the  outer  one.  The  tormented  Soul  proved  to  be  that 
of  Pope  Nicholas  III.,  of  the  Orsini  family.  In  giving 
account  of  himself  he  severely  reflected  on  the  character 
of  the  actual  Pope  Boniface  VIII.;1  and  foretold  the  far 
fouler  deeds  of  Clement  V.,  later  to  be  raised  to  the 
Apostolic  See  through  the  intrigues  of  Philippe  le  Bel. 
Dante  retorted  with  a  strong  condemnation  of  the  worldli- 
ness.which  had  crept  into  the  Church  through  the  Donation 
of  Constantine  :  —  and  was  then  carried  up  again  by  his 
approving  Master.  —  From  the  bridge-top  was  seen,  in  Pit  4, 
a  long,  slow,  silent,  weeping  procession  of  Soothsayers  and 
Witches,  with  necks  wrung  so  completely  round  that  the 
tears  streamed  down  their  backs.  Such  utter  degradation 

1  Dante's  judgment  on  both  Nicholas  and  Boniface  is  said  to  be  more 
severe  than  that  of  other  historians.    (Venturi  and  Fraticelli,  Inf.  xix.) 

6 


82  The  Diviners  and  the  Barterers. 

of  the  human  image,  borne  by  himself  in  common  with  these 
reprobates,  struck  to  Dante's  inmost  soul : 

Certes  I  wept,  leaning  on  one  o'  the  crags 
Of  the  hard  rock,  so  that  mine  escort  said 
To  me,  'Art  thou  too  of  the  other  fools  ? 
Here,  when  't  is  wholly  dead,  doth  pity  l  live  : 
For  who  can  be  more  wicked  than  the  man 
Who  has  a  passion  for  God's  judgeship  ? ' 

xx.  25-30. 

After  this  gravest  remonstrance  tbe  Master  went  on  to 
point  out  certain  diviners  of  antiquity,  till  from  naming 
Manto  he  branched  off  into  details  concerning  the  origin  of 
his  own  native  city  Mantua.  These  ended,  the  continuance 
of  the  procession  brought  under  notice  various  mediaeval 
sorcerers,  among  whom  occurs  the  familiar  name  of  Michael 
Scott. 

Good  Friday  was  over  by  this  time,  and  the  sun  of  Holy 
Saturday  was  rising  on  the  Earth.  Passing  from  bridge  to 
bridge,  the  Poets  discerned  through  the  marvellous  obscurity 
of  Pit  5  the  bubbling,  swelling,  and  subsiding  of  the  boiling 
Pitch-lake.  Soon  a  black  Devil  was  seen  to  run  along  the 
rocky  chain,  clenching  the  ankles  of  a  Barterer  slung  across 
his  shoulder.  Hurled  down  into  the  pitch  this  sinner  soon 
came  up  again,  but  was  forthwith  once  more  submerged  by 
the  prongs  of  the  Evilclaws.  Virgil,  whose  mind  apparently 
misgave  him  that  obstacles  similar  to  those  of  Dis  would 
here  arise,  enjoined  his  charge  to  squat  down  for  conceal- 
ment behind  a  projecting  edge  of  rock,  while  he  himself 
should  seek  a  parley.  His  first  step  on  the  partition-wall 

1  Pietb  meaning  both  pity  and  piety,  the  sense  of  this  line  is  :  Here 
piety  lives  when  pity  is  wholly  dead. 


Virgil  deceived  by  EviltaiL  83 

was  the  signal  for  a  rush  of  prong-armed  Evilclaws,  who 
however  at  his  request  deputed  their  chief,  Eviltail,  to  hear 
him. 

'  Bad-tail,  dost  thou  suppose  thou  seest  me 
Having  come  hither,'  so  my  master  spoke, 
*  Already  safe  from  all  defence  of  yours, 
Without  divine  command  and  favoring  fate  ? 
Let  me  proceed  ;  for  it  is  willed  in  heaven 
I  show  another  on  this  salvage  road.' 

His  pride  was  then  so  fallen  that  he  let 
His  hook  down-tumble  to  his  feet,  and  said 
Unto  the  rest :  *  Now  let  him  not  be  struck.' 

And  unto  me  my  lord :  *  O  thou  who  sitt'st 
Amid  the  bridge's  boulders  all  asquat, 
Return  thou  to  me  now  securely  back.' 

Wherefore  I  moved,  and  quickly  came  to  him  ; 

And  forward,  all  of  them,  the  devils  came, 

So  that  I  feared  they  would  not  keep  their  pledge. 

And  so  erewhile  I  saw  the  soldiers  fear 

Who  covenanted  from  Caprona  went, 

Seeing  themselves  amid  so  many  foes.1 

xxi.  79-96. 

So  in  fact  it  was ;  the  seeming  prohibition  was  a  mere 
trick,  covertly  conveying  permission  to  wound  him  some- 
what later;  and  the  disciple  proved  now  far  more  alive 
than  the  Master  to  the  impending  danger.  Eviltail  lied  on  : 

1  '  Caprona,  a  Pisan  fortress,  having  capitulated  to  the  Guelph  con- 
federates of  Tuscany  in  1290,  the  garrison  filed  out,  when  the  hostile 
soldiers  clamored  (but  only  to  frighten  them)  to  have  them  hung. 
Dante  is  believed  to  have  served  among  the  victors.' 


84  Ten  demons  escort  the  Pilgrims. 

'  'T  will  not  be  possible  to  go 
Further  along  this  rock,  because  that  all 
The  sixth  arc  's  lying  at  its  bottom  smashed  ; 
And,  onward  if  you  still  would  please  to  wend, 
Go  up  then  by  this  cavern  :  there  is  nigh 
Another  rock,  which  makes  a  path  along. 
Five  hours  more  on  than  this  is,  yesterday, 
A  thousand  and  two  hundred  sixty-six 
Years  finished  since  the  path  was  broken  here. 
I  'm  sending  thither  some  of  these  of  mine, 
To  see  if  any  airs  himself  therefrom  : 
Go  you  with  them,  for  they  will  not  be  froward.' 

xxi.  106-117. 
• 
Then  he  thus  charged  the  ten  selected  for  this  mission  : 

'  Search  ye  the  boiling  bird-lime  roundabout. 
Let  these  as  far  as  the  next  ledge  be  safe, 
Which  goes  on  all  entire  above  the  dens.' 

xxi.  124-126. 

There  was,  in  fact,  no  such  line  of  bridges  in  existence,  all 
those  which  once  spanned  Pit  6  lying  broken  at  its  bottom  : 
—  and  the  fiends,  well  knowing  this,  indulged  in  an  under- 
current of  threatening  gestures,  not  one  of  which  was  lost  on 
Dante.  He  begged  hard  to  be  spared  any  save  the  wonted 
and  trusty  escort,  but  Virgil  insisted  that  there  was  no 
danger,  and  they  all  started. 

With  the  ten  demons  we  were  going  on  — 
Ah  !  fell  companionship !     But,  in  the  church 
With  saints,  and  with  the  gluttons  at  the  inn. 

xxii.  13-15. 

On  their  way  they  saw  seated  on  the  brink  the  Shade  of  a 
former  courtier  of  Theobald  II.,  King  of  Navarre  —  Ciampolo, 


The  Hypocrites.  85 


whose  words  and  acts  presently  disclosed  how  great  an 
amount  of  trickery  could  be  carried  on  by  a  Barterer  even 
in  Hell.  Two  of  the  Evilclaws,  baffled  in  their  expectation 
of  tormenting  him,  at  length  fell  foul  of  each  other ;  and 
while  the  whole  troop  were  intent  on  the  scuffle,  the  Pil- 
grims made  good  their  escape  down  the  partition-wall  into 
the  next  Pit.  None  too  soon :  —  for  the  pursuing  fiends 
stood  directly  over  them  just  as  their  feet  touched  the 
bottom ;  but  all  peril  was  past,  the  appointed  officials  of 
Pit  5  being  powerless  to  quit  their  field  of  action. 

Already  in  Pit  6,  the  Poets  found  themselves  in  company 
no  longer  with  demons,  but  with  Hypocrites.  At  first  the 
nature  of  their  punishment  was  not  apparent,  but  it  was 
soon  explained  by  one  of  them,  the  Bolognese  Catalano  de' 
Catalani,  of  the  military  and  religious  Order  of  Knights  of 
S.  Mary,  popularly  nicknamed  Frati  Godenti,  or  Jolly  Friars. 
He,  with  his  colleague  Loderingo  degli  Andalo,  had  been 
elected  on  account  of  seeming  virtues  to  the  office  of  Podesta 
in  a  peculiarly  troublous  year  at  Florence,  and  had  acted 
with  the  grossest  avarice,  injustice,  and  violence.  In  this 
Pit  not  only  is  courtesy  observed  —  this  we  might  perhaps 
have  expected;  but,  surprising  as  it  may  appear,  truth  is 
spoken. — After  marvelling  over  the  degraded  condition  of 
Caiaphas  and  his  fellow-councillors,  Virgil  inquired  whether 
there  was  any  opening  that  might  afford  him  and  his  com- 
panion exit  into  the  next  Pit ;  and  learned  that  he  was  very 
near  the  point  where,  by  clambering  up  the  heaped  ruins  of 
the  bridge,  he  would  find  himself  once  more  on  a  chain 
thence  to  the  end  unbroken.  Half-abashed  and  half-indig- 
nant he  resumed  his  functions,  till  quite  restored  to  serenity 
on  approaching  the  pile  he  seized  fast  hold  of  his  pupil 


86  Thieves  and  Evil  Counsellors. 

from  behind,  and  then  impelled  him  upwards  from  crag  to 
crag.  All  panting,  Dante  sat  down  just  as  he  touched  the 
top :  but  he  was  forthwith  stirred  up  again,  and  soon  was 
vainly  peering  from  the  bridge  into  the  thick  darkness  of 
Pit  7.  From  the  somewhat  lower  level  of  the  wall- top  how- 
ever he  managed  to  discern  a  worse  than  Libyan  desert  of 
Thieves  and  Serpents,  binding  and  bound,  biting  and 
bitten,  consuming  and  consolidating,  bewildering  and  be- 
wildered, men  contracting  into  snakes,  snakes  expanding 
into  men :  none  might  say  whose  was  whose,  or  who  was 
who,  or  what  was  what :  —  fit  emblem  of  the  social  state 
when  habitual  contempt  of  the  rights  of  property  makes 
change  the  sole  unchanging  condition.  Among  these 
wretches  no  less  than  five  Florentines  were  discovered. 
Two  other  sinners  were  specially  noticed  as  belonging  by 
the  main  course  of  their  lives  to  the  violent  Robbers  in 
Circle  VII.,  but  weighed  down  to  this  lower  depth  each  by 
a  single  act  of  fraud :  —  Cacus  the  Centaur  (probably  now 
demonized)  by  his  driving  Hercules'  stolen  cattle  backwards 
to  falsify  their  track,  and  Vanni  Fucci  of  Pistoja  by  his 
sacrilegious  theft  from  the  sacristy  of  the  Duomo  of  that 
city  —  a  crime  for  which  an  innocent  man  had  very  nearly, 
if  not  actually,  suffered. 

Into  Pit  8  it  proved  but  too  easy  to  see,  for  its  flames 
swarmed  thick  as  fire-flies  in  the  Tuscan  valleys  —  those 
'  thieving  flames  '  that  swathe  and  conceal  Evil  Counsel- 
lors. Awfully  intense  was  the  impression  made  on  the 
chief  Intellect  of  his  day  by  the  doom  of  souls  which, 
endowed  with  gifts  in  some  instances  even  comparable 
to  his  own,  had  sinned  as  none  could  sin  without  those 
noblest  faculties. 


Ulysses  and  Diomed :  Guido  of  Montefeltro.    87 

Then  grieved  I,  and  I  now  do  grieve  again 
When  I  direct  my  mind  to  what  I  saw, 
And  more  rein  in  my  thought  than  I  am  wont, 
Lest  whither  virtue  guides  it  not  it  run ; 
So  that,  if  bounteous  star  or  better  thing 
Gave  me  the  good,  myself  pervert  it  not. 

xxvi.  19-24. 

Here  two  who  had  led  the  active  life,  Ulyssesjmd  Diomed,  *>\ 
burning  together  within  a  double-tongued  winding-sheet, 
were  paying  the  penalty  of  the  bereaved  Deidamia,  the 
stolen  Palladium,  and  the  Jatal  Horse  :  —  these  two  espe- 
cially excited  Dante's  attention  and  interest,  and  at  Virgil's 
request  Ulysses  told  the  tale  of  his  last  voyage.1  —  Here  also 
one  who  after  the  active  life  of  a  warrior  had  as  a  Fran- 
ciscan turned  to  the  contemplative  life,  Count  Guido  of,  ' 
Montefeltro  in  the  Apennines,  is  represented  as  bearing  th 
irreparable  consequences  of  trusting  to  Absolution  before- 
hand for  sin.  His  narrative  is  so  painful  that  it  is  quite  a 
relief  to  know  how  little  reason  there  is  for  believing  it  true.2 
No  authority  save  this  passage  so  much  as  hints  at  the  evil 
counsel  having  been  given ;  Angeli,  the  historian  of  the 
Assisi  convent,  evidently  disbelieves,  while  Muratori  the 
critic  indignantly  rejects  the  story;  and  Dante  himself  in 
his  Convito  unites  with  numerous  contemporaries  in  witness- 
ing to  the  virtues  of  this  'most  noble  Latin.'8  Muratori 
indeed  suggests  political  motives  as  not  improbably  furnish- 
ing the  key  to  the  accusation.  Under  this  protest  let  the 
awful  history,  as  related  by  the  sufferer  himself,  be  read. 

1  See  page  15. 

2  G.  Rossetti,  Com.  An.  Riflessioni  sul  c.  xxvii.  —  Fraticelli  in  he. 
»  Conv.  iv.  28. 


88  Guido  retiring  from  the  world. 

'  I  was  a  man  of  arms,  then  cordelier, 

Thinking,  so  girded,  to  have  made  amends  ; 

And  certes  my  belief  had  come  fulfilled, 

Were  't  not  for  the  Arch-priest,1  whom  evil  seize, 

Who  put  me  back  into  my  former  wrongs : 

And  how  and  wherefore  I  will  have  thee  hark. 

The  whiles  I  was  the  form  of  bones  and  pulp 

My  mother  gave  to  me,  my  doings  were 

Not  lion-like,  but  rather  of  the  fox. 

I  knew  precautions  and  clandestine  ways, 

Each  one,  and  managed  so  the  art  of  them 

That  forth  the  sound  went  to  the  end  of  earth. 

When  I  beheld  myself  arrived  at  that 

Part  of  mine  age  when  every  one  would  well 

Lower  the  sails,  and  gather  in  the  ropes, 

That  which  before  had  pleased  me  pained  me  then, 

And  penitent  I  yielded,  and  confessed, 

Alas  me  wretched !  and  it  would  have  served. 

The  sovereign  of  the  modern  pharisees, 

Having  a  war  near  Lateran  to  wage,2 

(And  not  with  Saracens,  nor  yet  with  Jews, 

Seeing  his  enemies  were  Christians  all, 

And  none  at  Acre  had  been  conquering,8 

Nor  merchandising  in  the  Soldan's  land),4 

Regarded  in  himself  nor  charge  supreme, 

Nor  holy  orders,  nor  in  me  the  cord 

Which  used  to  make  more  lean  its  girded  ones ; 

But,  as  within  Soracte  Constantine 

Prayed  Sylvester  for  cure  from  leprosy,5 

1  '  Pope  Boniface  VIII.'  2  'Against  the  Colonna  family.' 

8  'As  the  Saracens  had  done  in  1291.' 

*  '  Like  the  renegade  Christians.' 

5  'The  legend  ran  that,  in  gratitude  for  a  miraculous  cure  thus 
effected  on  him  by  Pope  Sylvester,  Constantine  endowed  the  pontiffs 
\vith  the  government  of  Rome.' 


Guido  in  sin  and  after  death.  89 

So  unto  me  prayed  this  man,  as  his  leach, 
Thus  from  his  haughty  fever  to  be  cured. 
He  asked  me  counsel ;  and  I  held  my  peace, 
Because  his  words  appeared  intoxicate. 
And  then  said  he  :  "  Let  not  thy  heart  suspect : 
I  even  now  absolve  thee ;  teach  me  thou 
How  Penistrino1  I  may  throw  to  earth. 
I  am  able  to  lock  up  and  unlock  heaven, 
And  this  thou  knowest ;  for  the  keys  are  two 
The  which  my  predecessor2  held  not  dear." 
The  weighty  arguments  impelled  me  then, 
Where  my  resolve  was  silence,  to  the  worse ; 
And,  "  Since  thou  lav'st  me,  father,"  I  replied, 
"  From  that  misdeed  which  I  must  fall  in  now, 
Long  promising,  with  short  fulfilment,  will 
Make  thee  to  triumph  in  the  lofty  chair." 
Then,  after  I  was  dead,  did  Francis  come 
For  me  ;  but  one  of  the  black  Cherubim 
Said  to  him :  "  Take  him  not,  nor  do  me  wrong. 
He  must  come  down  among  my  sorry  folk, 
Because  he  gave  the  fraudulent  advice, 
Whereafter  at  his  hair  I  've  been  till  now : 
For  who  repents  not  cannot  be  absolved ; 
Neither  at  once  can  one  repent  and  will, 
Because  the  contradiction  bears  it  not." 
Ah  woful  me  !  how  did  I  shake  myself 
When  as  he  took  me,  saying,  "  Thou  perhaps 
Didst  not  imagine  I  was  logic-learned." 
He  carried  me  to  Minos  ;  and  he  writhed 
Eight  times  his  tail  about  his  callous  back, 
And,  after  for  great  rage  he  'd  bitten  it, 

1  '  Where  the  Colonnas  were  still  seated/ 

2  Celestin  V.,  who  voluntarily  abdicated  the  Papal  throne. 


90         Schismatics  and  Discord-breeders. 

Said,  "  That 's  a  criminal  of  the  thieving  fire." 
Wherefore  where  thou  beholdest  I  am  lost, 
And  rankle,  going  in  this  manner  clothed.' 

When  he  had  thus  made  ending  of  his  speech, 
The  flame  in  anguish  took  departure  hence, 
Writhing  and  brandishing  its  sharpened  horn. 

xxvu.  67-132. 

Standing  over  Pit  9,  Dante  was  reminded  of  the  bloodiest 
battlefields  recorded  in  history.  As  he  intently  gazed  on 
a  Shade  split  from  the  chin  downwards,  it  spontaneously 
made  itself  known  as  Mahomet,  and  after  pointing  out  All 
cleft  from  the  chin  upwards,  set  forth  the  sin  and  punish- 
ment of  the  whole  mutilated  troop,  and  inquired  of  Dante 
who  he  was,  and  why  there.  The  answer  came  from  Virgil, 
awakening  an  amazement  which  for  the  moment  suspended 
the  procession,  and  afforded  opportunity  for  naming  some 
other  Souls.  Among  these  was  Mosca_degliJIberti,  maimed 
of  both  hands  :  —  the  suggester  of  the  bloody  revenge  taken 
by  the  Amidei  for  the  slight  put  upon  their  kinswoman  by 
Buondelmonte,  and  so  the  introducer  into  Florence  of  the 
Guelph-Ghibelline  discord.1  The  last  comer  was  Bertrand 
de  Born,  Viscount  de  Hautefort,  whom  historians  accuse  as 
the  inciter  of  the  rebellion  of  Prince  Henry  (called  '  the 
young  King/  as  having  been  already  crowned)  against  his 
father  Henry  II.  of  England.  Here  Dante  himself  shall 

speak. 

I  remained  to  look  upon  the  troop, 

And  saw  a  thing  which  I  should  be  in  fear, 
Without  more  proof,  of  telling,  I  alone, 
But  that  my  conscience  reassureth  me,  — 

1  See  page  26. 


Bertrand  de  Born.  9 1 

The  good  companion  which  emboldens  man 
Under  the  hauberk  of  its  feeling  pure. 
I  certes  saw,  and  seems  I  see  it  still, 
A  trunk  without  a  head  proceeding,  so 
As  went  the  others  of  the  sorry  flock. 
And  by  the  hair  he  held  his  truncate  head, 
In  guise  of  lantern,  pendulous  in  hand  : 
And  that  gazed  on  us,  and  it  said,  '  Oh  me  ! ' 
He  of  himself  made  light  unto  himself, 
And  they  were  two  in  one,  and  one  in  two: 
How  it  can  be  He  knows  Who  governs  thus. 

When  he  was  right  against  the  bridge's  foot, 
He  raised,  with  all  the  head,  his  arm  on  high, 
So  to  approach  to  us  the  words  thereof,  — 
Which  were:  *  See  now  the  troublous  penalty, 
Thou  who  go'st  breathing,  looking  at  the  dead  : 
See  whether  any  is  so  great  as  this. 
And,  for  that  thou  mayst  carry  of  me  news, 
I,  know  thou,  am  Bertrand  de  Born,  the  man 
Who  gave  the  young  king  ill  encouragements. 
I  mutually  made  rebels  son  and  sire  : 
Ahithophel  made  Absalom  no  more, 
And  David,  with  his  wicked  goadings-on. 
Because  I  parted  persons  thus  conjoined, 
My  brain,  alas  !  I  carry  parted  from 
Its  principle  which  is  in  this  my  trunk. 
So  retribution  is  in  me  observed.' 


The  many  people  and  the  diverse  wounds 
Had  made  mine  eyes  intoxicated  so 
That  they  were  fain  to  stay  a-weeping.     But 
Virgil  said  to  me :  '  What  then  starest  thou  on  ? 


9  2  Geri  del  Bella. 


And  wherefore  prythee  does  thy  vision  bend 
Down  there  among  the  mournful  mangled  shades? 
Thou  hast  not  done  so  at  the  other  pits. 
Consider,  if  thou  think'st  to  number  them, 
The  valley  turneth  twenty  miles  and  two  : 
Already  too  the  moon 's  beneath  our  feet ; 
The  time  is  little  now  that's  granted  us, 
And  there  is  more  to  see  than  thou  believ'st.' 

*  An  if  thou  hadst,'  I  thereon  answered  him, 

*  Attended  to  the  cause  for  which  I  looked, 
Perhaps  thou  'dst  yet  have  suffered  me  to  stay.' 
My  guide  was  partly  going  now,  and  on 

I  went  behind  him,  making  the  reply, 

And  saying  furthermore  :  *  Within  that  fosse 

Whereon  so  steadfastly  mine  eyes  I  set 

I  think  a  spirit  of  my  blood  doth  weep 

The  guilt  which  costeth  there-adown  so  much.' 

Then  said  the  master  :  '  Do  not  let  thy  thought 
Be  stumbling  from  henceforward  upon  him. 
Elsewhere  attend,  and  there  let  him  remain : 
For  I  beheld  him  at  the  bridge's  foot 
Point  thee,  and  with  his  finger  threaten  hard, 
And  heard  him  named  Geri  del  Bello.     Thou 
Wast  so  entirely  at  the  time  engrossed 
With  him  who  held  aforetime  Hautefort 
Thou  thither  lookedst  not,  so  he  was  gone.' 

'  Alas  !  my  lord,  the  death  by  violence 

Which  is  not  yet  avenged  to  him,'  said  I, 

'  By  any  that  is  consort  in  the  shame, 

Made  him  disdainful ;  therefore  went  he  off, 

As  I  conceive,  without  addressing  me, 

And  so  he  's  made  me  piteous  towards  him  more.' 

xxvin.  112-142.     xxix.  1-36. 


The  Falsifiers.  93 


This  Geri  del  Bello,  related  to  Dante  on  the  father's  side, 
had  been  killed  in  a  quarrel  with  one  of  the  Sacchetti ;  and, 
according  to  the  barbarous  theory  of  the  day,  had  a  right 
to  expect  his  kindred  to  carry  on  the  blood-feud.  Dante's 
non-compliance  with  this  usage,  and  excuse  notwithstanding 
of  his  kinsman,  are  perhaps  the  sole  instances  recorded  in  the 
Poem  of  his  exercising  the  virtue  of  Meekness  as  opposed 
to  Vindictiveness.  Fearful  enough  was  his  experience  of 
the  woes  entailed  by  blood-feuds  upon  his  city.  In  the 
Purgatorio  we  probably  have  a  further  hint  of  his  sentiments 
on  this  subject1 

But  already  the  Pilgrims  stood  directly  above  the  Tenth 
and  last  Pit,  which  might  have  been  taken  for  a  hospital 
wherein  all  the  malaria  patients  of  the  worst  districts  and 
worst  season  of  Italy  were  massed  together.  Dante's  ears 
were  quickly  stopped  with  his  hands,  so  piteous  were  the 
groans  that  pierced  them ;  and  his  eyes  and  nose  might  well 
have  been  also  stopped  from  sights  and  smells  no  less  offen- 
sive. Among  the  leprous  Alchemists  were  distinguished 
two  seated  back  to  back,  GrirTolin  d'  Arezzo  and  Capoc- 
chio;  among  the  mad  False-Personators  Gianni  Schicchi, 
who  counterfeiting  in  semblance  a  man  already  dead,  but 
not  yet  known  to  be  so,  had  made  in  his  name  a  fraudulent 
will ;  among  the  fever-stricken  Liars  Potiphar's  wife,  and 
Sinon  the  Greek  of  Trojan  infamy;  among  the  dropsical 
Coiners  Mastro  Adamo  of  Brescia,  who  for  alloying  the 
golden  florin  had  been  burned  to  death  by  the  Florentine  Gov- 
ernment. Between  this  last  and  Sinon  a  sudden  skirmish 
took  place,  keen  and  brisk  in  word  and  blow ;  and  proved, 
in  the  Sage's  judgment,  far  too  amusing  to  his  pupil. 

1  See  page  134. 


94  Dante  reproved  by  Virgil. 

To  listen  to  them  I  was  wholly  fixed, 
When  *  Look  now,'  unto  me  the  master  said, 

*  That  I  am  all  but  quarrelling  with  thee.' 

Whenas  I  heard  him  speak  to  me  in  wrath, 

I  turned  towards  him  with  so  much  of  shame 

That  in  my  memory  it  whirleth  still. 

And,  as  is  he  who  dreams  of  his  mischance, 

Who,  dreaming,  wishes  that  it  were  a  dream, 

And  longs  so,  as  'twere  not,  for  that  which  is  ; 

Such  I  became,  incapable  to  speak, 

Who  wished  to  make  excuse,  and  all  the  while 

Excused  myself,  and  thought  not  that  I  did. 

*  Less  shame  will  wash  a  greater  foible  out,' 

The  master  said, '  than  that  which  thine  has  been  : 
Therefore  unlade  thyself  of  all  distress. 
And  reckon  that  I  'm  always  at  thy  side 
If  yet  it  happen  fortune  catches  thee 
Where  there  are  people  in  a  broil  like  this; 
For  wishing  to  hear  that's  a  base  desire.' 

xxx.  130-148. 

And  now  in  silence  they  were  crossing  the  parapet  of  the 
last  portion  of  the  awful  Void,  here  probably  about  35 
feet  deep  :  when  lo  !  a  horn  sounded  with  a  blast  of  force 
to  hoarsen  loudest  thunder.  Peering  through  the  twilight, 
along  the  edge  of  the  wide  embankment  Dante  beheld 
what  he  took  for  many  high  towers;  Virgil  however 
quickly  informed  him  that  these  were  no  towers,  but  Giants 
disposed  at  intervals  all  round  the  well,  so  that  about  half 
their  person  was  visible  above  its  brink,  and  half  concealed 
within.1  Fear  came  on  Dante  as  error  fled ;  but  soon  he 

1  Ampere  (Voyage  Dantesque,  277,  quoted  by  Longfellow,  note  on 
Inf.  xxxi.  59)  computes  the  height  of  Nimrod  at  70  feet. 


Caina  and  Antenora  :   Traitors.          95 

learned  how  little  there  was  to  fear  from  creatures   either 
powerless    or  not  inclined    to   harm.     Nimrod    howled    a 
« Babel  or  pre-Babel  jargon  which  sounded   threatening,  but 
made  no  objection  when  Virgil  reminded  him  of  the  horn 
through  which,  he   might  vent  his  rage ;    Ephialtes,  appar- 
ently worse  disposed,  was   chained,  as  was    also  Briareus ; 
while  Tityus   and  Typhoeus  would  presumably,  if  applied 
to,  have  been  moved  by  desire  of  fame  to  assist  the  Pil- 
grims, and  Antaeus  from   this  motive  actually  was  induced 
to  take  them  up  in  a  bundle   where  they   stood,  and  then 
bending  forwards  set  them  down  at  the  foot  of  the  ninth 
and  last  earth-wall,  on  the  brink  of  the  frost-bound  pool 
Cocytus.     It  seemed  a  basin  of  glass,  not  water ;  its  ice  so 
hard  that  the  fall  of  a  mountain  would  have  failed  to  make 
even  the  edge  creak.  —  In  its  outmost  Belt  Caina,  among 
other  Betrayers  of  kindred,  two   wretched  brothers,  Ales- 
sandro  and  Napoleone  degli  Alberti,  mutual  fratricides  on 
account  of  their  patrimony,  were  seen  frozen  head  to  head 
by  the  hair.  —  Next  came  Antenora: 

Then  did  I  see  a  thousand  faces  made 

Doglike  by  cold  ;  whence  shuddering  to  me  comes, 

And  always  will  come,  for  the  frozen  fords. 

And,  while  we  were  proceeding  toward  the  midst 

Whereunto  every  weight  doth  concentrate, 

And  I  was  trembling  in  the  eternal  dark, 

Whether  't  was  will,  or  destiny,  or  hap, 

I  know  not ;  but,  in  walking  through  the  heads, 

I  struck  my  foot  hard  in  the  face  of  one. 

On  me  he  weeping  cried  :  '  Why  poundest  me  ? 
Unless  thou  com'st  the  vengeance  to  increase 
For  Mont'  Aperti,  why  dost  me  molest  ? ' 

xxxn.  70-81. 


96  Bocca  degli  AbatL 

This  reprobate  was  Bocca  degli  Abati,  a  Florentine 
Guelph  who  at  the  battle  of  Montaperti  had  actually 
for  Ghibelline  gold  cut  off  the  arm  of  his  own  party's 
standard-bearer,  and  so  brought  on  its  defeat. 

And  I :  '  My  master,  now  await  me  here, 
That  I  may  get  out  of  a  doubt  by  him  : 
Then  thou  shalt  hurry  me  howe'er  thou  wilt.' 

The  leader  stopped :  and  unto  him  I  said, 
Who  in  the  mean  while  kept  blaspheming  hard, 
*  Who  art  thou  who  revil'st  another  thus  ?  ' 

'Now,  who  art  thou  who  go'st  through  Antenore, 
Striking,'  he  answered,  'on  another's  cheeks, 
So  that,  were  I  alive,  'twere  overmuch  ?' 

'  Alive  am  I ;  and,  if  thou  askest  fame, 
It  may  be  dear  to  thee,'  was  my  response, 
'That  I  should  put  thy  name  'mong  other  notes.' 

And  he  to  me  :  'I  wish  the  contrary  : 
Arise  herefrom,  and  give  me  irk  no  more, 
For  ill  know'st  thou  to  flatter  in  this  plain.' 

Then  took  I  hold  upon  him  by  the  scalp, 

And  said  :  '  'T  will  have  to  be  thou  name  thyself, 

Or  that  no  hair  remain  to  thee  hereon.' 

Whence  he  to  me :  '  For  thine  unhairing  me, 
I  '11  neither  tell  nor  show  thee  who  I  am, 
If  on  my  head  thou  fall  a  thousand  times.' 

I  had  in  hand  his  hair  already  twined, 
And  I  had  plucked  more  than  one  lock  of  it, 
He  barking  with  his  eye  concentred  down, 
When  cried  another :  ' Bocca,  what  dost  want  ? 
Is  't  not  enough  for  thee  to  sound  thy  jaws 
Unless  thou  bark'st  ?     What  devil  touches  thee  ? ' 


'  Now,'  said  I,  '  I  've  no  wish  for  thee  to  speak, 
Flagitious  traitor ;  for,  unto  thy  shame, 

I  '11  carry  of  thee  veritable  news.' 

xxxii.  82-111. 

But  the  horror  of  horrors  was  yet  to  come.  Just  where 
Antenora  confines  with  Ptolemaea  protruded  a  head  frozen 
in  one  hole  with  another  head,  but  above  it,  gnawing  and 
gnawing  it.  The  gnawer '  was  the  Pisan  Count  Ugolino 
della  Gherardesca,  whose  attributed  but  not  attested  crime 
was  the  having  sold  to  Florence  and  Lucca  certain  castles  of 
Pisa;  the  gnawed  was  his  traitorous  friend,  Archbishop  Rug- 
gicri  degli  Ubaldini,  through  whose  abhorred  machinations 
he,  with  two  sons  and  two  grandsons,  had  been  starved  to 
death  in  a  tower  called  subsequently  the  Tower  of  Famine. 
At  Dante's  entreaty 

That  sinner  from  the  savage  meal  his  mouth 

Uplifted,  wiping  it  upon  the  hair 

Of  the  head  which  he  'd  wasted  from  behind. 

Then  he  began  :  '  Thou  'dst  have  me  to  renew 
Desperate  grief,  which  presses  on  my  heart 
Now  only  thinking,  ere  I  speak  of  it. 
But,  if  my  words  may  be  a  seed  to  yield 
Infamy  to  the  traitor  whom  I  gnaw, 
Thou  shalt  behold  me  speak  and  weep  at  once. 
I  know  not  who  thou  art,  nor  by  what  mode 
Thou  'rt  come  down  hither  :  but  a  Florentine 
Thou,  when  I  hear  thee,  seem'st  to  me  in  truth. 
I  was  Count  Ugolino,  thou  must  know, 
And  he  Archbishop  Roger :  now  will  I 
Tell  wherefore  I  'm  a  neighbor  like  to  this.1 

1  '  Why  I  am  such  a  bad  neighbor  to  Ruggieri  (by  devouring  his  head).' 

7 


98  Ugolino  tells  of  his  dream, 

That,  by  the  effecting  of  his  evil  thoughts, 
Confiding  in  him,  I  was  captured, 
And  after  done  to  death,  I  need  not  tell. 
Nevertheless,  what  thou  canst  not  have  heard,  — 
That  is,  how  much  my  death  was  cruel,  —  thou 
Shalt  hear,  and  know  whether  he  's  injured  me. 
A  scanty  opening  within  the  mew 
Which  has  from  me  the  name  of  Famine,  and 
Wherein  it  needs  that  others  too  be  shut, 
Had  shown  me  through  its  loophole  several  moons 
Already,  when  I  had  the  evil  sleep 
Which  rent  away  for  me  the  future's  veil. 
Master  and  lord  this  man  unto  me  seemed, 
Chasing  the  wolf  and  wolf-cubs  to  the  mount 
Because  of  which  the  Pisans  see  not  Lucca.1 
With  bitches  lean,  and  eager,  and  well-trained, 
He  had  Gualandi,  with  Sismondi  and 
Lanfranchi,2  stationed  in  the  front  of  him. 
In  little  course,  the  father  and  the  young 
Seemed  to  me  tired,  and  with  the  sharpened  fangs 
I  seemed  to  see  the  flanks  of  them  ripped  up. 
When  I  before  the  morrow  was  awake, 
Weeping  amid  their  sleep  I  heard  my  sons 
Which  were  along  with  me,  and  asking  bread. 
Sure  thou  art  cruel  if  thou  grievest  not 
Already,  thinking  what  was  told  my  heart  ; 
And,  if  thou  weep'st  not,  when  art  wont  to  weep  ? 
We  now  were  wakened,  and  the  hour  approached 
When  food  was  customed  to  be  brought  to  us, 
And  each  was  doubting,  on  his  dream's  account : 
And  I  heard  locked  the  exit  underneath 


1  '  Mount  San  Giuliano.  which  stands  between  the  two  cities.' 

2  '  Three  of  the  Ghibelline  auxiliaries  of  the  Archbishop/ 


and  of  his  death  by  starvation.  99 

The  horrible  turret ;  whereupon  I  looked 

In  my  sons'  faces,  saying  not  a  word. 

I  wept  not,  I  so  petrified  within  : 

They  wept ;  and  said  my  Anselmuccio,  "  Thou, 

Father,  art  looking  so  ?     How  is  't  with  thee  ?  " 

I  shed  no  tear,  however,  nor  replied 

The  whole  of  that  day,  nor  the  after  night, 

Till  issued  in  the  world  the  other  sun. 

Whenas  some  little  ray  had  got  itself 

Into  the  painful  dungeon,  and  I  marked 

My  selfsame  aspect  upon  faces  four, 

I  bit  for  anguish  into  both  my  hands  : 

And  they,  supposing  I  did  that  for  need 

Of  eating,  of  a  sudden  raised  themselves, 

And  said  :  "  'T  will  give  us,  father,  much  less  pain 

If  us  thou  eat'st  of:  thou  induedst  us 

This  miserable  flesh,  and  doff  it  thou." 

I,  not  to  make  them  sadder,  stilled  me  then  : 

That  and  the  next  day  we  remained  all  dumb  ; 

Ah  !  hardened  earth,  why  openedst  thou  not  ? 

When  to  the  fourth  day  we  were  come,  before 

My  feet,  distended,  Gaddo  threw  himself, 

Saying,  "  My  father,  why  not  give  me  help  ?  " 

Herewith  he  died ;  and,  as  thou  seest  me, 

I  saw  the  three  fall  one  by  one,  between 

The  fifth  day  and  the  sixth  :  whereat  I  took, 

Already  blind,  to  groping  over  each, 

And  three  days  called  them  after  they  were  dead. 

Then  fasting  more  availed  than  sorrowing.' 

When  he  had  spoken  this,  with  eyes  askew 
He  took  again  the  wretched  skull  with  teeth 
Which  like  a  dog's  upon  the  bone  were  strong. 

xxxin.  1-78. 


ioo  Ptolcmcea:  Frate  Alberigo. 

And  Dante,  with  bleeding  heart  and  burning  lips  invoking 
vengeance  on  Pisa,s  passed  from  the  edge  into  the  Belt  of 
Ptolemaea.  Here  not  only  the  supine  posture  of  the  lost 
made  concealment  impossible,  but  the  tears,  congealing 
even  as  they  sprang,  blocked  up  the  cavity  of  the  eye  with 
ice  which,  while  permitting  sight,  greatly  increased  torment 
by  stopping  up  the  vent  of  pain. 

And,  notwithstanding  that,  as  from  a  corn, 
Every  feeling,  by  the  cold's  effect, 
Had  ceased  its  lodgement  in  my  countenance, 
I  ne'ertheless  appeared  to  feel  some  wind  ; 
Whence  I :  *  My  master,  who  is  moving  this  ? 
Below  here  is  not  every  vapor  quenched  ? ' 

And  he  to  me :  '  Thou  shalt  anon  be  where 
The  eye  shall  give  thee  answer  as  to  that, 
Seeing  the  cause  which  raineth  out  the  blast.' 

And  one  o'  the  mournful  of  the  freezing  rind 

Cried  unto  us  :  '  O  Spirits  cruel  so 

As  that  the  final  post  is  given  ye, 

Take  from  my  face  the  hardened  veils,  that  I 

May  vent  the  sorrow  which  impregns  my  heart 

A  little,  ere  again  the  weeping  freeze.' 

Whence  I  to  him  :  'If  thou  wouldst  have  mine  aid, 
Say  who  thou  wast ;  and  if  I  free  thee  not, 
To  the  ice's  bottom  let  me  have  to  go.' 

xxxm.  100-117. 

Alas  for  Dante  !  twice  we  have  mourned  him  wrathful, 
this  time  far  more  deeply  mourn  him  false  ;  for  this  promise 
made  to  the  ear  was  to  be  broken_to_the_hope,  inasmuch  as 
he  actually  wished  and  prayed  now  to  go  to  the  bottom  of 


The  entrance  on  Judecca.  i  o  i 

the  ice.  —  The  Shade  went  on  to  name  himself  Frate 
Alberigo  (of  the  same  order  of  '  Frati  Godenti'  as  the  two 
Hypocrites  met  with  in  Circle  VIII.,  Pit  6 1),  and  to  refer 
obscurely  to  the  horrible  treachery  by  which  he  had  mur- 
dered his  guests  at  a  banquet.  Dante,  all  unknowing  of 
his  death,  questioned  him  in  surprise,  and  was  informed 
that  Ptolemaea  has  the  '  advantage '  of  receiving  instantly 
on  the  consummation  of  the  traitorous  deed  the  traitor's 
soul,  which  thenceforward  remains  utterly  ignorant  how 
long,  demon-informed,  the  body  walks  the  earth,  and  at 
what  moment,  demon-deserted,  it  is  buried.  Alberigo  went 
on  to  cite,  as  perhaps  a  case  in  point,  that  of  Branca  d' 
Oria  close  behind  him ;  and  after  answering  his  listener's 
amazed  doubts  with  a  further  asseveration  of  the  fact, 
claimed  at  length  the  looked-for  relief. 

'  But  hither  now  betimes  stretch  out  thine  hand,  — 
Open  mine  eyes.'  —  And  them  I  opened  not, 
And  to  be  rude  to  him  was  courtesy. 

xxxiu.  148-150. 

The  pilgrims  set  foot  on  the  Belt  Judecca  :  and  now  — 

*  Vexilla  Regis  prodeunt 2  Inferni 

Toward  us  :  therefore  look  in  front  of  thee,' 

My  master  said,  k  if  thou  discernest  him.' 

As,  at  the  time  when  breathes  a  heavy  fog, 
Or  when  our  hemisphere  is  under  night, 
Appears  from  far  a  mill  which  wind  doth  turn, 

1  See  p.  85. 

2  Thus  begins  the  Vespers  Hymn  for  Passion-tide  ;  Virgil  adds  '  In- 
ferni,' so  that  the  meaning  here  is,  '  The  banners  of  the  King  of  Hell 
advance.' 


'162'  The  gaze  on  L  ucifer, 

Meseemed  to  see  then  such  an  edifice : 
Then,  for  the  wind,  I  strained  me  up  behind 
My  leader,  for  no  other  cave l  was  there. 
Already  was  I  (and  with  fear  I  put 
It  into  metre)  where  the  Shades  were  all 
Covered,  and  like  a  mote  in  glass  showed  through. 
Down  some  are  lying ;  others  stand  erect,  — 
That  with  the  head,  and  with  the  foot-soles  that ; 
Another,  as  a  bow,  inverts  toward 
The  feet  the  visage. 

When  so  far  we'd  got 
As  that  my  master  pleased  to  show  to  me 
The  Creature  which  had  had  the  noble  form, 
He  from  before  me  moved,  and  made  me  stay, 
Saying:  *  Behold  here  Dis,  and  here  the  place 
Where  it  befits  thou  arm  with  fortitude.' 

Thereat  how  frozen  I  became,  and  hoarse, 

Ask  it  not,  reader,  for  I  write  it  not, 

For  little  would  be  every  utterance. 

I  died  not,  and  I  did  not  keep  alive  ; 

Think  for  thyself  now,  if  thou'st  flower  of  wit, 

What  I  became,  deprived  of  one  and  both. 

xxxiv.  1-27. 

Within   the   deep   Dante   stood  gazing  upon  the  deep, 
within  the  deep  of  the  material  Hell  upon  the  deep  of  the 
moral  Hell,  the  form  of  Lucifer :  and  in  that  gaze  he  knew 
what  Beatrice  had  sent  him  there  to  learn  —  what  Sin  is,  and 
\    what  it  works,  and  what  it  suffers  in  soul  and  body. 

The  Lamentable  Kingdom's  Emperor 
Issued  from  out  the  ice  with  half  his  breast ; 

1  '  No  other  shelter.' 


the  Hell- Emperor.  103 

And  with  a  giant  more  do  I  compare 

Than  with  his  arms  do  giants :  therefore  see 

How  great  must  be  that  whole  which  corresponds 

Unto  a  part  so  fashioned.     If  he  was 

As  beautiful  as  he  is  ugly  now, 

And  raised  his  brows  against  his  Maker,  sure 

All  sorrowfulness  must  proceed  from  him. 

Ah!  how  great  marvel  unto  me  it  seemed 

When  I  beheld  three  faces  to  his  head  ! 

The  one  before,  and  that  was  vermeil-hue : 

Two  were  the  others  which  adjoined  to  this, 

Over  the  midst  of  either  shoulder,  and 

They  made  the  joining  where  the  crown  is  placed. 

And  between  white  and  yellow  seemed  the  right ; 

The  left  was  such  an  one  to  be  beheld 

As  come  from  there  wherein  the  Nile  is  sunk. 

There  issued  under  each  two  mighty  wings, 

Such  as  't  was  fitting  for  so  great  a  bird  : 

I  never  saw  the  sails  of  shipping  such. 

They  had  not  feathers,  but  the  mode  thereof 

Was  like  a  bat's  ;  and  these  he  fluttered  so 

That  from  him  there  was  moved  a  threefold  wind  : 

Cocytus  all  was  frozen  over  hence. 

With  six  eyes  wept  he,  and  three  chins  along 

The  weeping  trickled,  and  a  bloody  foam. 

At  every  mouth  he  shattered  with  his  teeth 

A  sinner,  in  the  manner  of  a  brake, 

So  that  he  thus  made  woful  three  of  them. 

The  biting  for  the  foremost  one  was  nought 

Unto  the  scratching,  for  at  times  the  spine 

Remained  of  all  the  skin  completely  stripped. 

*  That  Soul  above  which  has  most  punishment 

Is,'  said  my  lord,  'Judas  Iscariot, 

Who  has  his  head  within,  and  outside  plies 


IO4     The  passage  of  the  Centre  of  Gravity. 

His  legs.     O'  the  other  two,  whose  head  is  down, 
Brutus  is  he  who  from  the  black  head  hangs  ; 
See  how  he  writhes,  and  does  not  speak  a  word : 
The  other  's  Cassius,,  who  appears  so  gaunt.' 

xxxiv.  28-67. 

But  now  the  Master  might  release  the  disciple  from  his 
awful  contemplation ;  the  night  of  Holy  Saturday  was 
setting  in,  and  nought  else  remained  to  see. 

I,  as  it  pleased  him,  did  embrace  his  neck, 
And  he  took  vantage  of  the  time  and  place  ; 
And,  when  the  wings  were  opened  far  apart, 
He  caught  upon  the  shaggy  ribs.     From  tuft 
To  tuft  he  afterwards  descended  down 
Between  the  thick  hair  and  the  frozen  crusts. 
When  we  had  got  thereunto  where  the  thigh 
Turns  just  upon  the  thickness  of  the  haunch, 
The  leader,  with  fatigue  and  anguishing, 
Turned  round  his  head  to  where  he  had  his  shanks, 
And  grappled  to  the  hair  as  one  who  mounts, 
So  that  I  thought  I  back  returned  to  Hell. 

'  Now  hold  on  well ;  for  by  such  stairs  as  these,' 
The  master,  panting  like  a  tired  man,  said, 
'  It  needs  from  so  much  ill  that  we  depart.' 

Then  forth  through  a  stone's  orifice  he  came, 

And  put  me  down  to  sit  upon  the  brink : 

He  set  toward  me  then  his  wary  step. 

I  raised  mine  eyes,  and  thought  I  should  have  seen 

Lucifer  as  I  'd  left  him  just,  and  I 

Beheld  him  holding  upperward  his  legs. 

And  whether  I  became  then  travailed  let 

The  grosser  folk  conceive,  which  seeth  not 

What  was  the  point  that  I  had  overpassed. 


Dante  propounds  three  perplexities.       105 

*  Rise  up,'  the  master  said,  '  upon  thy  feet ; 
The  way  is  long,  and  sorry  is  the  road, 
And  now  the  sun  returns  to  half  of  three.'1 

'T  was  not  the  pathway  of  a  palace  there 
Where  we  were  passing,  but  a  natural  cell 
Which  had  soil  evil,  and  no  ease  of  light. 

'  Or  ever  I  do  pluck  me  from  the  abyss, 

My  master,'  said  I,  when  I  was  erect, 

'  A  whit,  to  loose  from  error,  speak  to  me. 

Where  is  the  ice  ?    And  how  is  this  one  stuck 

So  topsy-turvy  ?     And  in  time  so  scant 

How  has  the  sun  from  evening  passed  to  morn  ? ' 

xxxiv.  70-105. 

These  inquiries  the  Master  answered  as  we,  knowing 
beforehand  the  plan  of  Dante's  Universe,  can  answer  for 
ourselves.  The  Poets  had  cleared  the  centre  of  gravity 
when  Virgil  had  struggled  so  hard  in  turning;  they  were 
now  sitting  on  the  earth  which  forms,  so  to  say,  the  reverse 
of  the  ice-medal  Judecca ;  in  opposite  hemispheres  morning 
corresponds  to  evening ; 

'And  this  who  makes  our  staircase  with  his  fell 
Is  still  so  planted  as  he  was  at  first. 
Downward  in  this  part  did  he  fall  from  Heaven ; 
And  here  the  earth,  which  did  before  project, 
Made  of  the  sea,  for  fear  of  him,  a  veil, 
And  came  unto  our  hemisphere ;  and  that 
Which  there  appears,  and  upward  rushed,  perchance 
To  flee  from  him,  left  vacant  here  the  place.' 

xxxiv.  119-126. 

1  'To  the  half  of  three  hours  from  the  Jewish  third  hour,  i.e.  to  an 
hour  and  a  half  before  noon.' 


1 06  The  ascent  through  the  Earth. 

And  now  they  have  but  to  ascend. 

Down  there  's  a  place,  remote  from  Belzebub 

As  great  a  distance  as  the  tomb l  extends, 

Which  not  by  sight  is  known,  but  by  the  sound 

Made  by  a  runnel  which  descendeth  here 

By  a  stone's  hole  which  it  has  eaten  out 

During  the  course  it  turns  ;  and  little  this 

Impends.     My  guide  and  I  by  that  hid  path 

Entered  to  turn  again  to  the  clear  world : 

And,  having  not  a  care  of  any  rest, 

We  mounted  up,  he  first  and  second  I, 

So  far  that  I,  through  a  round  opening,  saw 

Some  of  the  beauteous  things  which  heaven  contains: 

And  hence  we  came  to  re-behold  the  stars.2 

xxxiv.  127-139. 

1  'The  "tomb"  appears  to  be  the  entire  hollow  of  Hell  from  its 
entrance  down  to  Lucifer.     If  so,  the  "place  remote  from  Belzebub  " 
(Lucifer)  is  the  entire  space  between  him  and  the  exit  from  Hell.     Or 
possibly  the  tomb  is  the  well  or  space  leading  down  from  the  giants 
to  Judecca  and  Lucifer ;  in  which  case  the  "  place  "  is  the  particular 
sppt  from  which  Dante  now  proceeds  on  his  way  to  Purgatory.' 

2  '  The  word  stars  (stelle)  ends  all  the  three  parts  of  the  Commedia.' 


THE     PURGATORY, 


CHAPTER  VII. 
THE  PURGATORY. 

Ove  1'umano  spirito  si  purga. 

Wherein  the  human  spirit  doth  purge  itself. 

Pur.  i.  5. 

T)URGATORY  is  placed  by  Dante  on  the  highest 
f.  mountain  in  the  world,  the  only  land  in  the  Water- 
hemisphere  ;  an  island  in  the  form  of  an  elevated  cone 
blunted  at  the  top,  its  skirts  within  the  Sphere  of  Air,  its 
heights  within  the  Sphere  of  Fire,  its  transitional  confine 
the  Gate  of  S.  Peter,  its  crown  the  Terrestrial  Paradise. 
The  shores  are  washed  by  the  vast  Western  Ocean,  across 
which,  from  the  time  of  our  Blessed  Lord's  Descent  into 
Hell  —  till  when  Dante  supposes  all  the  Elect  to  have  gone 
down  to  Limbo  —  comes  flying  ever  and  anon  the  oarless, 
sailless,  Angel-piloted  bark  that  bears  the  blessed  freight 
of  such  Souls  as,  departing  in  grace,  await  not  on  Acheron's 
but  on  Tiber's  banks  the  signal  for  their  supreme  voyage. 
For  no  disembodied  Soul  but  is  gathered  to  one  or  other  of 
these  two  streams;  and  there,  all  its  inferior  faculties  in 
abeyance,  but  Will,  Memory,  and  Understanding  far  keener 
than  before,  attracts  and  moulds  its'  surrounding  air  into  the 
shade-body  which  is  thenceforth  till  the  Resurrection  to 
constitute  its  medium  of  feeling  and  expression.  In  form 
precisely  resembling  the  fleshly  tabernacle  so  lately  put  off, 


io8       Symbolism  of  the  Western  Island. 

and  organizing  for  itself  corresponding  senses,  this  aerial 
unsubstantial  body,  incapable  of  fleshly  needs,  is  yet  capable 
of  the  pains,  as  hunger  and  thirst,  which  accompany  them  ; 
of  speech  and  laughter  also,  of  sighs  and  tears,  and  of 
whatever  outward  signs  betoken  inward  sensation  or  affec- 
tion. And  Dante  imagines  that  the  Angelic  boatman  ever 
visiting  the  mouth  of  the  Tiber  himself  selects  his  succes- 
sive freights  of  Shades,  leaving  some  and  taking  others 
according  to  his  will,  which  is  the  reflection  of  the  just  Will 
of  God. 

x  As  no  unbending  or  leaf-bearing  plant  could  live  under 
the  beating  of  the  waves,  the  low  wet  shore  of  the  Island 
grows  reeds,  and  reeds  alone ;  fit  type  of  the  humility 
which,  giving  way  under  the  rod,  finds  it  to  be  for  correc- 
tion and  not  for  destruction.  So  likewise,  the  moment  a 
reed  is  plucked  it  springs  afresh ;  for  virtues  and  means  of 
salvation  waste  not  in  the  using.1 

And  because  on  the  Mount  is  the  healing  of  moral  cor- 
ruption, its  slopes  are  irradiated  bythe  constellation  bf~the~~~ 
.Southern  Cross  (probably  known  to  Dante  through  the 
Catalogue  of  Ptolemy),  whose  four  stars  meetly  symbolize 
the  moral  virtues  of  Prudence,  Justice,  Fortitude,  and 
Temperance.  By  these  even  unchristened  Man,  albeit 
dubiously  and  fitfully,  may  steer  his  course  through  this 
present  world ;  and  so  Virgil,  the  impersonation  of .Human 
Science,  is  still  the  guide,  though  oftentimes  the  hesitating 
guide,  even  to  the  summit  of  the  steep  ascent.  Sore^ofnce 
for  a  dweller  in  Limbo,  seeing  the  sojourners  in  Purgatory 
are  his  fellows  in  the  pain  of  loss,  his  worse  than  fellows 
in  the  pain  of  sense :  yet  how  should  he  not  at  every  step 

1  Fraticelli,  note  on  Pur.  i.  135. 


Cato  the  Warden.     The  Mountains  base.     109 

fathom  the  fathomlessness  of  the  great  gulf  fixed  between 
the  Prisoners  of  Hope  and  the  Prisoner  of  Hopelessness? 
Yea,  and  far  more  for  that  the  Warden  of  the  Mount  is  Cato 

of  Utica,  brought  forth  from  that  same  Limbo  under  trie 

•_^^^ ii  ~ . . .  i        .» 

lawoTTeaving  behind  the  affections  that  bound  him  there ; 
and  —  perhaps  for  his  rigid  virtue  and  preference  of  death 
to  slavery  —  set  over  the  world  where  Spirits  by  energy  and 
suffering  pass  out  of  the  last  remnants  of  the  bondage  of 
corruption  into  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  children  of  God.1 

The  base  of  the  Mountain  is  the  haunt  of  Souls  which, 
repenting  in  their  lajit  moments,  have  yet  departed  under 
the  censures  of  the  Church.  These  have  to  expiate  each 
year  of  deferred  penitence  with  thirty^^£ars.~QLjdeferred 
Purgatory  ;  except  —  and  this  holds  good  of  every  Soul  before 

1  Dante  most  distinctly  states  (Par.  xix.  103-105)  that  none  des- 
titute of  faith  prospective  or  of  faith  retrospective  in  Christ  ever  did 
or  ever  will  enter  Heaven.  Yet  he  places  Cato  of  Utica  in  Purgatory 
as  a  saved  soul  awaiting  a  glorified  body,  and  already  no  prisoner,  but 
a  ruler: — and  he  does  so  without  any  such  explanation  as  he  gives 
(Par.  xx.,  see  pp.  246,  247)  in  the  cases  of  Trajan  and  Ripheus.  How 
is  this  ?  I  am  tempted  to  refer  to  a  slight  communication  made  by  my 
brother  W.  M.  Rossetti  to  Notes  and  Queries.  In  the  English  trans- 
lation of  the  mediaeval  treatise  entitled  Cursor  Mundi,  Dionysius  Cato, 
a  writer  of  uncertain  faith  and  date,  is  obviously  confounded  with  one 
of  the  two  Roman  Catos  ;  and  is  thus  (in  substance)  spoken  of :  '  Cato, 
although  a  pagan,  never  either  spoke  or  wrote  aught  contrary  to  the 
Christian  faith.  He  is  invariably  in  accord  with  Holy  Writ :  he  who 
follows  Cato's  precepts  follows  those  of  the  Bible.  The  Holy  Ghost, 
"  by  reason,"  seemed  to  be  in  Cato.  God  grant  us  grace  to  follow 
Cato's  precepts,  and  to  be  his  companions  where  he  dwells.'  —  This 
looks  as  if  the  author  or  translator,  or  both,  of  this  curious  old  book 
regarded  Cato  as  having  a  sort  of  pre-intuition  of  Christianity.  If  so, 
may  there  not  have  been,  in  the  Middle  Ages,  some  kind  of  floating 
tradition  to  that  effect  ?  and  might  not  this  possibly  account  for  Dante's 
exempting  him  from  Hell  ?  (Notes  and  Queries,  4th  S.  ii.  229.) 


no          Ante- Purgatory :  three  stages. 

and  during  every  stage  of  cleansing — delay  be  shortened  by 
pious  prayers  on  earth.  For  ampler  satisfaction  is  made 
to  the  Divine  Justice  by  love  than  by  time  :  wherefore  one 
moment  of  intense  supplication  may  obtain  the  remission  of 
years  of  lingering. 

Respecting  the  Mountain  itself  these  two  points  may  be 
premised  :  — Uhat^the  ascent,  at  first  all  but  too  narrow  and 
too  steep  to  be  scaled  at  all.  becomes  gradua]ly_easy  and 
delightful  as  progress  is  made ;  and  that  not  one  upward 
step  can  ever  be  taken  after  sunset.  'The  night  cometh, 
when  no  man  can  work.' 1 

Above  the  base  rise  the  skirts  —  within  the  Sphere  of  Air, 
therefore  subject  to  atmospheric  vicissitudes;  and  below 
the  Gate  of  S.  Peter,  therefore  affording  no  means  of 
purgation. 

On  the  winding  terrace  of  this  Ante-Purgatory  are  dis- 
tinguished three  successive  stages,  haunted  by  three  more 
classes  of  tardy  penitents,  who  having  unlike  those  at  the 
base  died  in  communion  with  the  Church,  are  detained_pnly 
during  a  period  corresponding  to  that  of  their  delay  on  earth. 
The  first  class  comprises  those  who  from  'negligence  put 
off  their  conversion  to  their  deathbed :  —  the  second  those 
who,  dying  by  violence,  and  sinners  up  to  their  last  hour, 
repented  and  forgave  after  the  death-stroke  was  received : 
—  the  third  those  Princes  and  Rulers  who  postponed  piety 
and  let  slip  opportunities  of  good  through  absorption  in 
earthly  interests  and  love  of  earthly  greatness;  these  last 
pass  the  night  in  a  grassy  flowery  dell  in  the  mountain-side, 
in  color  all  one  glow,  in  odor  all  one  fragrance.  —  The 
denizens  of  this  whole  lower  region  seem  not  yet  entirely 

1  S.  John  ix.  4. 


The  Gate  of  S.  Peter.  1 1 1 

freed  from  sinful  infirmities,  neither  is  their  peace  untinged 
with  care  and  fear :  such  as  rest  sit  down  under  a  sense  of 
the  hopelessness  of  making  any  real  progress  upward  ;  such 
as  walk  chant  Miserere  as  they  go ;  such  as  converse  need 
and  impart  consolation;  such  as  humbly  dreading  the  Ad-         "< 
versary  watch  for  the  nightfall,  greet  it  with  the  Compline 
hymn  sung  with  accordant  voices  and  lifted  eyes,  j£mdjire__ 
answered  by  the  descent  of  Guardian  Angels,  green-winged  --d 
and  robed  for  hope,  golden-haired  and  radiant-visaged  for 
glory,  with  fiery  swords  against  the   lurking   Serpent,  with 
blunted  swords  towards  the  reposing  Elect,  falcons  to  watch, 
falcons  to  fly,  moved  swifter  than  seen  to  move.     And  as 
the  day  is  ruled  by  the  Southern  Cross  of  fourfold  virtues, 
so  the  night  by  the  Alphas l  of  threefold   graces,   Faith, 
Hope,  and  Charity. 

Immediately  above  the  termination  of  the  winding  ter- 
race, on  the  frontier  of  the  Sphere  of  Fire,  the£Laie-d£-Sr— 
jgeiejjirmly  set  m  a  cieft  of  the  rOck  gives  or  bars  access 
to  Purgatory  Proper,  and  so  ultimately  to  the  Terrestrial  and 
the  Celestial  Paradise.  The  approach  to  the  Gate  is  by 
three  steps  :  the  first  of  white  marble  polished  into  a  mirror ; 
the  second  of  inky-purple  stone,  rough  and  calcined,  split 
both  lengthwise  and  athwart ;  the  third  of  flaming  blood-red 
porphyry.  On  this  rest  the  feet  of  him  who  sits  on  the 
adamantine  threshold  —  a  dazzling  Angel  in  clothing  of 
ashen  hue,  having  in  his  hand  a  drawn  flashing  sword, 
under  his  robe  a  golden  and  a  silver  key,  both  equally 
requisite  for  opening  the  Gate ;  the  golden  the  more  pre- 
cious, the  silver,  as  that  which  unlocks  the  inmost  wards, 
demanding  more  skill  in  its  employment.  These  were 

1  The  Alphas  of  Eridanus,  of  the  Ship,  and  of  the  Golden  Fish. 


1 1 2      The  Gate  is  the  Tribunal  of  Penance. 

committed  to  him  by  S.  Peter,  with  a  charge  rather  to  err 
towards  prostrate  supplicants  in  opening  than  in  keeping 
closed.  But  he  who  should  enter  and  look  back  would  find 
himself  once  more  without.  '  No  man,  having  put  his 
hand  to  the  plough  and  looking  back,  is  fit  for  the  King- 
dom of  God.' 1 

At  this  point  it  is  indispensable  to  refer  to  Dante's  own 
account  of  his  Commedia :  '  The  subject  of  all  the  work, 
accepted  literally  only,  is  the  state  of  souls  after  death 
taken  simply ;  because  respecting  it  and  around  it  the  pro- 
cess of  all  the  work  revolves.  But  if  the  work  is  accepted 
allegorically,  the  subject  is  Man,  in  so  far  as  by  free-will 
meriting  and  demeriting,  he  is  amenable  to  the  justice  of 
reward  and  punishment.' 2  Therefore,  as  in  the  Hell  are 
set  forth  the  moral  and  penal  effects  of  sin  in  this  world  as 
well  as  in  the  world  to  come,  so  and  yet  more  in .  the  Purga- 
tory the  undoing  of  those  effects,  and  the  formation  of 
habits  of  virtue  in  life  as  well  as  after  death.  Contemplated 
through  the  medium  of  this  statement,  the  Mount  and  the 
things  of  the  Mount  from  base  to  summit  are  plainly  seen. 
We  need  hardly  be  told  that  the  Gate  of  S.  Peter  is  the 
Tribunal  of  Penance,  for  post-baptismal  sinners  the  tran- 
sitional confine  between  the.  irresolute  who  in  the  muta- 
bility of  passion  and  sensation  linger  without  the  Kingdom 
of  Heaven,  and  the  violent  who  in  the  immutability  of  a 
steadfast  will  take  it  by  force.  The  triple  stair  stands  re- 
vealed as  candid  Confession  mirroring  the  whole  man,  mourn- 
ful Contrition  breaking  the  hard  heart  of  the  gazer  on  the 
Cross,  Love  all  aflame  offering  up  in  Satisfaction  the  life- 

1  S.  Luke  ix  62. 

2  Epistle  to  Can  Grande  della  Scala,  7. 


Construction  of  Purgatory  proper.       1 1 3 

blood  of  body,  soul,  and  spirit :  —  the  adamantine  threshold- 
seat  as  the  priceless  Merits  of  Christ  the  Door,  Christ 
the  Rock,  Christ  the  sure  Foundation  and  the  precious 
Corner-Stone.  In  the  Angel  of  the  Gate,  as  in  the  Gospel 
Angel  of  Bethesda,  is  discerned  the  Confessor;  in  the 
dazzling  radiance  of  his  countenance  the  exceeding  glory  of 
the  ministration  of  righteousness ;  in  the  penitential  robe 
the  sympathetic  meekness  whereby,  restoring  one  overtaken 
in  a  fault,  he  considers  himself  lest  he  also  be  tempted ;  in 
the  sword  the  wholesome  severity  of  his  discipline ;  in  the 
golden  key  his  Divine  authority;  in  the  silver  the  dis- 
cernment of  spirits  whereby  he  denies  Absolution  to  the 
impenitent,  the  learning  and  discretion  whereby  he  directs 
the  penitent. 

He  who  enters  by  this  Gate  finds  himself  at  the  foot  of 
a  zigzag  mountain  pass,  a  veritable  needle's  eye.  This 
threaded,  he  comes  out  not  upon  a  winding,  but  upon  a 
girding  terrace.  And  here  we  pause  for  a  study  of  moral 
theory  and  physical. .construction.. ^_—~ 

Purgatory  proper  is  the  region  between  the  Gate  of  S. 
Peter  and  the  Terrestrial  Paradise.  It  consists  of  seven 
Terraces  or  landing-places,  each  presumably  equalling  in 
-width  the  length  of  a  man's  body  thrice  repeated ;  the  suc- 
cessive ascents  are  by  stairs  cut  out  in  the  rock.  Each 
Terrace  is  dedicated  to  the  purgation  of  one  of  the  seven 
Capital"  Sins ;  the  first  three  of  which  spring  from  Love 
distorted,  the  middle  one  from  Love  defective,  the  last 
three  from  JLove  excessive.  For  Love,  which  is  in  every 
creature  the  fundamental  principle  of  action,  requires  two 
conditions  for  its  purity  and  health  :  —  that  in  its  fulness  it  be 
directed  towards  the  Primal  Goods,  even  towards  Him,  the 

8 


114          The  threefold  vitiation  of  Love. 

only  measure  of  our  love  of  Whom  is  to  love  Him  without 
measure,1  and  towards  Virtue  which  conforms  us  to  His 
Image  :  —  and  that  upon  all  secondary  goods  it  rest  in  due 
measure,  and  no  more.  For  thus  is  it  the  seed  of  every 
virtue ;  but  otherwise  of  every  vice  whereby  man  turns  the 
creature  against  the  Creator.  —  The  Distorter  of  Love  loves  _. 
evil  to  his  neighbor :  —  if  for  ni§  5wn  exaltation  he 


desires  another's  depression,  he^sjris^by^Pridej  if,  esteem- 
ing his  own  power,  favor,  honor,  and  fame  to  be  les- 
sened by  participation,  he  desires  another's  destitution,  he 
sins  by  Envy ;  if  because  of  evil  done  to  himself  he  desires 
vengeance  on  another,  he  sins  by  Anger.  —  The^Defaulter 
in  Love  loves  less  than  he  might  the  Highest  Good,  and  so 
striving  after  It  all  too  slackly  sins  by  Sloth.  —  Ihfi^Ex;, 
ceeder  in  Love  loves  more  than  he  ought  some  lower  un- 
sufficing  good  :  —  if  this  be  money,  he  sins  by  Avarice ;  if  . 
food,  by  Gluttony;  if  sensual  pleasure,  by  Lasciviousness. 
And  the  purgation  of  each  sin  is  double,  active  and  passive. 
All  the  penitents  alike  suffer  bodily  chastisement  vividly 
representative  of  the  sin  wherein  they  lived,  or  the 
penance  wherein  they  failed  to  live.  And  all  alike,  with 
the  whole  energy  of  a  body,  soul  and  spirit  thrilled  with 
agony,  parched  and  consumed  with  thirst  for  God,  spurred 
by  examples  of  virtue  (among  which  comes  ever  first  some 
act  or  word  of  the  Blessed  Virgin),  bridled  by  instances  of 
vice,  exercise  themselves  night  and  day,  unflinching  and 
unflagging,  in  the  grace  contrary  to  the  sin  for  which  they 
are  making  satisfaction. 

So   much  applies   generally :    we    pass   to   what  applies 
specially. 

1  S.  Franjois  de  Sales. 


Terrace  I.  Pride:  II.  Envy.  115 

On  the  first  and  lowest  Terrace  is  expiated  man's  worst, 


deepest,  fundamental  corruption  —Pride.  For  how  should 
he  be  purged  of  any  other  taint  while  this  remains  ?  how  of 
the  rebellion  of  the  will  while  yet  exalting  himself  against 
the  Divine  Law?  how  of  the  folly  of  the  understanding 
while  yet  despising  the  Divine  Wisdom?  Or  how  should 
virtue  be  acquired  by  any  still  counted  among  the  proud 
whom  God  resisteth,  and  not  among  the  humble  to  whom 
He  giveth  grace?  Since  then  the  first  Purgatorial  experi- 
ence of  each  pride-tainted  soul  must  needs  be  of  the  irre- 
vocable sentence,  *  Every  one  that  exalteth  himself  shall 
be  abased,' l  —  the  penitents  of  Terrace  I.  have  to  creep 
round  and  round  under  weighty  masses  of  stone  laid  upon 
their  necks  to  bow  them  down  to  the  very  dust.  All  along 
the  white  marble  rock-wall  on  their  left  are  marvellously 
sculptured  examples  of  Humility;  on  the  pavement  under 
their  feet  instances  of  Pride.  They  say  the  Lord's  Prayer 
as  they  go,  adding  to  each  petition  an  act  of  humiliation 
of  heart,  mind,  or  will:  and  in  every  word  of  their  con-, 
verse  each  studies  to  abase  himself  and  exalt  his  fellows. 
—  At  the  foot  of  the  narrow  flight  of  steps  which  leads  to 
the  next  Terrace  stands  a  directing  Angel,  and  the  mount- 
ing penitent  hears  voices  of  sweetness  unspeakable  chant  the 
now  applicable  benediction,  '  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit.' 

Terrace  II.  has  a  general  air  of  monotonous  uniformity 
well  suited  to  the  prison-house  of  a  sin  which  '  is  ever  where 
is  some  equality ' 2  between  its  subject  and  its  object:  and 
which,  might  it  but  have  its  way,  would  speedily  reduce  all 
around  it  to  one  dead  level  of  inferiority.  Pavement  and 
wall  are  here  not  of  carved  white  marble,  but_  of  smooth 

1  S.  Luke  xviii.  14.  2  Convito  i.  n.   . 


1 1 6         Terrace  II.  Emy  :  III.  Anger. 

livid  stone,  symbolizing  in  color  the  Envy  to  be  chastised. 
The  prisoners,  mantled  in  haircloth  of  like  hue,  thei£j£ye^ 
lids  sewed  up  with  wire,  sit  shoulder  to  shoulder  leaning  on 
each  other,  and  all  leaning  their  backs  against  the  bank. 
Their  mean  sad-colored  penance-garb  in  its  clinging, 
teasing,  universal  prickliness,  serves  as  a  corrective  parable 
of  their  wilful  taking  —  not  of  pleasure,  Envy  is  no  pleasure, 
but  —  of  pain  under  the  ban  of  the  Royal  Law ;  pain  most 
wearing  in  its  despicable  pettiness,  cleaving  like  a  burr  to 
the  soul,  fastening  on  all  things  and  all  persons  within  its 
range.  While  in  utter  helplessness  they  realize  the  need  of 
mutual  support  and  assistance,  their  evil  eye,  the  seat  of 
their  sin,  learns  in  blindness  and  torture  to  look  no  more 
askance  on  gifts  bestowed  on  each  for  all.  Vain  to  those 
eyes  were  sculptures ;  but  spirit-voices  in  the  air  above 
them  ring  or  thunder  in  their  ears  world-renowned  sayings 
of  the  Loving  and  of  the  Envious.  Their  invocations 
entreat  the  prayers  of  all  the  Saints :  their  discourse,  bitter 
now  only  in  grave  and  sad  rebuke  of  their  own  and  others' 
sin,  is  sweet  in  tenderest  Brotherly  Love,  acknowledged 
interdependence,  and  heartfelt  gratitude.  And  their  bene- 
diction on  their  release  is  this :  '  Blessed  are  the  merciful,' 
and  '  Rejoice,  O  Victor.' 

Terrace  III.  is  partially  beclouded  with  an  all-veiling 
smoke-fog  thicker  than  the  infernal  darkness,  bitter  to  the 
taste,  and  severely  pungent  to  the  eyes.  We  have  seen  in 
the  Hell  one  probable  reason  for  punishing  Wrath  with 
fumes ;  an  additional  reason  here  seems  to  be  the  effect  of 
this  sin  in  so  obstructing  the  mental  eye  as  to  make  it  in- 
capable of  seeing  anything  as  it  really  is.  To  the  sufferers 
of  this  Circuit  the  instances  of  Meekness  and  of  Anger  are 


Terrace  IV.  Sloth  :    V.  Avarice.         1 17 

inwardly  presented  in  ecstatic  vision ;  this  mode  being  prob- 
ably chosen  on  purpose  to  constrain  them  to  keep  their 
minds  in  that  calm  wherein  during  life  they  proved  so 
wofully  deficient.  For  peace  and  mercy  they  address  their 
unceasing  prayer,  all  one  concord  in  word  and  tone,  to  the 
Lamb  of  God  That  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world  :  thus 
they  learn  to  be  angry  and  sin  not,  mourning  over  evil  only 
with  the  righteous  disinterested  indignation  which  would 
fain  see  it  wholly  converted  to  good.  And  their  final  dis- 
charge is,  '  Blessed  are  the  peacemakers,  that  are  without 
evil  anger.' 

So  far  the  sins  of  Love  distorted.  The  next  in^order^  is 
Love  defective,  which  as  doing  little  or  no  good  occupies 
an  exceptional  transitional  place  between  the  two  divisions 
of  the  Love  which  does  evil. 

Terrace  IV.  is  a  race-course  round  which  the  Slothful  run 
and  run  at  their  extremest  speed.  Nothing  is  done  for 
them,  but  all  by  them  :  —  the  foremost  two  lead  on,  shout- 
ing with  tears  examples  of  Diligence ;  the  whole  pursuing 
troop  press  on,  urge  on  with  words  like  goads ;  the  hind- 
most two  chase  on  with  mordant  outcries  upon  instances  of 
Sloth.1  Nothing  is  said  of  any  prayers  of  these  athletes ; 
they  are  at  last  dismissed  upwards  with  the  words,  /Blessed 
are  they  that  mourn,  for  their  souls  shall  be  queens  of  con- 
solation.' : 

From  this  point  extends  the  region  of  Love  excessive. 

Terrace  V.  is  occupied  by  the  Avaricious,  and  also  by 
the  Prodigal ;  indeed  every  one  of  the  Terraces  is  stated  to 
belong  to  two  opposite  classes,  though  here  alone  is  this 
circumstance  dwelt  on.  Ecosttate,  extended,  motionless 

Seep.  51. 


n8     Terrace  V.  Avarice:   VI.  Gluttony. 

these  earth-idolizers  lie  along  the  earth;  bound  hand  and 
foot  because  that  earth  limed  their  energies  away  from  all 
the  work  they  should  have  done  for  Heaven ;  eyes  merged 
within  that  earth,  because  while  living  on  it  they  would 
raise  those  eyes  no  higher.  Their  chastisement  is  expressly 
said  to  be  as  severe  as  any  on  the  Mount ;  what  indeed 
should  be  sorer  to  affections  set  on  Heaven  than  eyes 
that  cannot  choose  but  grovel  ?  *  My  soul  cleaveth  unto 
the  dust '  is  their  sighing  plaint ;  while  now  loud,  now  low, 
they  eulogize  by  day  the  Poor  and  the  Liberal,  and  de- 
nounce the  Avaricious  by  night.  And  their  emancipation 
blesses  those  that  '  thirst  after  justice.' 

Terrace  VI.  famishes  Gluttons  in  the  midst  of  plenty. 
During  their  ceaseless  perambulation  two  trees,  planted 
probably  at  opposite  spots,  keep  torturing  them  with  fruit- 
less cravings.  The  first  tree  is  the  banquet  of  Tantalus ;  in 
form  like  a  pine,  but  with  head  broadening  upwards  that 
none  may  climb;  its  apples  temptingly  odorous;  its  top- 
most crown  of  foliage  laved  ever  by  a  jet  of  clearest  water 
streaming  upon  it  from  a  fount  springing  high  up  in  the 
rock-wall.  The  smell  is  of  virtue  to  excite  appetite  in  the 
utmost  possible  degree  :  but  still  as  the  hungering  thirsting 
Shades  draw  nigh  a  voice  issues  from  the  boughs,  denying 
them  the  feast,  and  setting  before  them  examples  of  Temper- 
ance.—  The  second  tree  is  reared  from  a  sprig  of  the  Tree 
of  Knowledge ;  but  neither  here  may  cries  and  outstretched 
hands  prevail  to  obtain  one  single  fruit  of  the  plenteous 
heavy  crop ;  the  voice  amid  the  leaves  again  forbids  the 
supplicants,  and  scares  them  away  with  instances  of 
Gluttony.  Unrecognizable  in  their  emaciation  these  peni- 
tents keep  their  baffled  fast,  yet  chant  their  tearful  vow. 


Terrace  VIL  Lascivi 


'  Thou  shalt  open  my  lips,  O  Lord ; '  till  afl&n^fi-^hey  too 
are  blessed  as  grace-illumined  to  hunger  no  more  than  in 
just  measure. 

Terrace  VII.  —  the  last  —  is  a  furnace  ;  perhaps  through 
the  Fire  of  this  Elemental  Sphere  manifesting  itself  at  this 
point  in  visible  sensible  flame  proceeding  from  the  rock- 
wall,  and  only  so  far  blown  back  by  a  wind  from  the  edge 
as  to  leave  clear  a  passage  barely  wide  enough  for  one 
exceeding  circumspect  to  walk  along  unscorched  and  un- 
precipitated.  Two  processions  of  penitents,  going  contrary 
ways  within  the  fire,  while  apart  sing  low  the  hymn  '  Summse 
Deus  clementiae,' 1  wherein  Chastity  is  besought,  and  pro- 
claim aloud  examples  of  that  virtue ;  then  at  each  succes- 
sive encounter  embrace  and  pass  on  unlingering,  crying 
shame  as  they  separate  on  instances  of  Lasciviousness  :  — 
till  cleansed  they  are  sped  upwards  with  the  Angelic  valedic- 
tion, 'Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart.' 

From  this  point  Purgatory  is  no  more.  As  impeccable 
its  holy  prisoners  have  entered  upon  it,  so  immovable  in 
the  set  purpose  of  making  satisfaction  to  One  supremely 
loved  they  have  endured  it  unconstrained.  Hence  the 
Wrathful  have  needfully  kept  within  their  smoke,  the 
Lascivious  within  their  fire;  hence  the  Slothful  have  raced 
on  even  in  seeming  discourtesy  to  a  guest,  the  Avaricious 
cut  short  pleasant  discourse  to  weep,  the  Gluttonous  sought 
once  and  again  the  trees  of  emptiness.  But  a  change 
comes  at  last  like  a  flood  upon  the  will ;  the  craving  for 
agony  is  satiated ;  the  Soul  leaps  up  free  for  its  beatitude. 
Nature  and  Grace  respond  throughout  the  Sphere  of  Fire : 
the  Mount  trembles  sympathetic ;  Gloria  in  Excelsis  goes 

1  The  Matins  Hymn  for  Saturday. 


1 20  The  Soul  enfranchised. 

up   like   incense    from    the   whole   world   of   Prisoners   of 
Hope. 

One  more  ladder  is  scaled  —  who  shall  say  whether  with 
feet  or  wings  ?  And  lo  the  indefectible  Soul,  having  with  a 
great  sum  obtained  this  freedom,  stands  on  the  borders  of 
its  redeemed,  its  reconquered  inheritance,  the  Eden  and 
the  Heaven  whence  it  shall  go  out  no  more. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
DANTE'S   PILGRIMAGE  THROUGH   PURGATORY. 

E  poi  vedrai  color  che  son  contenti 
Nel  fuoco. 

And  thou  shalt  then  see  those  whq  are  content 

Within  the  fire. 

Inf.  i.  118,  119. 

DANTE  with  Virgil,  issuing  from  within  the   Earth  at 
earliest  dawn,  as  seems  most  likely,  of  Easter  Day,1 
stood  on  the  low  flat  shore  of  the  Western  Island. 

Sweet  color  of  the  oriental  sapphire, 
That  was  upgathered  in  the  cloudless  aspect 
Of  the  pure  air,  as  far  as  the  first  circle, 

Unto  mine  eyes  did  recommence  delight 
Soon  as  I  issued  forth  from  the  dead  air, 
Which  had  with  sadness  filled  mine  eyes  and  breast. 

The  beauteous  planet,  that  to  love  incites, 
Was  making  all  the  orient  to  laugh, 
Veiling  the  Fishes  that  were  in  her  escort. 

To  the  right  hand  I  turned,  and  fixed  my  mind 
Upon  the  other  pole,  and  saw  four  stars 
Ne'er  seen  before  save  by  the  primal  people. 

Rejoicing  in  their  flamelets  seemed  the  heaven. 
O  thou  septentrional  and  widowed  site, 
Because  thou  art  deprived  of  seeing  these  ! 

1  Cayley,  note  on  Inf.  xxxiv.  105. 


122  Cato  questions  the  Pilgrims  : 

When  from  regarding  them  I  had  withdrawn, 
Turning  a  little  to  the  other  pole, 
There  where  the  Wain  had  disappeared  already, 

I  saw  beside  me  an  old  man  alone, 

Worthy  of  so  much  reverence  in  his  look, 
That  more  owes  not  to  father  any  son. 

A  long  beard  and  with  white  hair  intermingled 
He  wore,  in  semblance  like  unto  the  tresses, 
Of  which  a  double  list  fell  on  his  breast. 

The  rays  of  the  four  consecrated  stars 
Did  so  adorn  his  countenance  with  light, 
That  him  I  saw  as  were  the  sun  before  him. 

*  Who  are  you  ?  ye  who,  counter  the  blind  river, 
Have  fled  away  from  the  eternal  prison?' 
Moving  those  venerable  plumes,  he  said : 

4  Who  guided  you  ?  or  who  has  been  your  lamp 
In  issuing  forth  out  of  the  night  profound, 
That  ever  black  makes  the  infernal  valley  ? 

The  laws  of  the  abyss,  are  they  thus  broken  ? 

Or  is  there  changed  in  Heaven  some  counsel  new, 
That  being  damned  ye  come  unto  my  crags  ? ' 

Then  did  my  Leader  lay  his  grasp  upon  me, 

And  with  his  words,  and  with  his  hands  and  signs, 
Reverent  he  made  in  me  my  knees  and  brow  ; 

Then  answered  him  :  '  I  came  not  of  myself ; 
A  Lady  from  Heaven  descended,  at  whose  prayers 
I  aided  this  one  with  my  company. 

But  since  it  is  thy  will  more  be  unfolded 
Of  our  condition,  how  it  truly  is, 
Mine  cannot  be  that  this  should  be  denied  thee. 

This  one  has  never  his  last  evening  seen, 
But  by  his  folly  was  so  near  to  it 
That  very  little  time  was  there  to  turn. 

As  I  have  said,  I  unto  him  was  sent 


is  satisfied  with  Virgil's  reply.          123 

To  rescue  him,  and  other  way  was  none 
Than  this  to  which  I  have  myself  betaken. 

I  Ve  shown  him  all  the  people  of  perdition, 
And  now  those  Spirits  I  intend  to  show 
Who  purge  themselves  beneath  thy  guardianship. 

How  I  have  brought  him  would  be  long  to  tell  thee. 
Virtue  descendeth  from  on  high  that  aids  me 
To  lead  him  to  behold  thee  and  to  hear  thee. 

Now  may  it  please  thee  to  vouchsafe  his  coming  ; 
He  seeketh  Liberty,  which  is  so  dear, 
As  knoweth  he  who  life  for  her  refuses. 

Thou  know'st  it ;  since,  for  her,  to  thee  not  bitter 
Was  death  in  Utica,  where  thou  didst  leave 
The  vesture,  that  will  shine  so,  the  great  day. 

By  us  the  eternal  edicts  are  not  broken ; 

Since  this  one  lives,  and  Minos  binds  not  me ; 
But  of  that  circle  I,  where  are  the  chaste 

Eyes  of  thy  Marcia,  who  in  looks  still  prays  thee, 

0  holy  breast,  to  hold  her  as  thine  own ; 
For  her  love,  then,  incline  thyself  to  us. 

Permit  us  through  thy  sevenfold  realm  to  go  ; 

1  will  take  back  this  grace  from  thee  to  her, 
If  to  be  mentioned  there  below  thou  deignest.' 

*  Marcia  so  pleasing  was  unto  mine  eyes 
While  I  was  on  the  other  side,'  then  said  he, 
'  That  every  grace  she  wished  of  me  I  granted  ; 

Now  that  she  dwells  beyond  the  evil  river, 
She  can  no  longer  move  me,  by  that  law 
Which,  when  I  issued  forth  from  there,  was  made. 

But  if  a  Lady  of  Heaven  do  move  and  rule  thee, 
As  thou  dost  say,  no  flattery  is  needful ; 
Let  it  suffice  thee  that  for  her  thou  ask  me. 

Go,  then,  and  see  thou  gird  this  one  about 

With  a  smooth  rush,  and  that  thou  wash  his  face, 


1 24  Dante  cleansed  from  stains. 

So  that  thou  cleanse  away  all  stain  therefrom, 

For  't  were  not  fitting  that  the  eye  o'ercast 
By  any  mist  should  go  before  the  first 
Angel,  who  is  of  those  of  Paradise. 

This  little  island,  round  about  its  base 

Below  there,  yonder,  where  the  billow  beats  it, 
Doth  rushes  bear  upon  its  washy  ooze ; 

No  other  plant  that  putteth  forth  the  leaf, 
Or  that  doth  indurate,  can  there  have  life, 
Because  it  yieldeth  not  unto  the  shocks. 

Thereafter  be  not  this  way  your  return  ; 

The  sun,  which  now  is  rising,  will  direct  you 
To  take  the  mount  by  easier  ascent.' 

With  this  he  vanished  ;  and  I  raised  me  up 
Without  a  word,  and  wholly  drew  myself 
Unto  my  guide,  and  turned  mine  eyes  to  him. 

And  he  began  :  '  Son,  follow  thou  my  steps  ; 
Let  us  turn  back,  for  on  this  side  declines 
The  plain  unto  its  lower  boundaries.' 

The  dawn  was  vanquishing  the  matin  hour 
Which  fled  before  it,  so  that  from  afar 
I  recognized  the  trembling  of  the  sea. 

Along  the  solitary  plain  we  went 

As  one  who  unto  the  lost  road  returns, 
And  till  he  finds  it  seems  to  go  in  vain. 

As  soon  as  we  were  come  to  where  the  dew 
Fights  with  the  sun,  and,  being  in  a  part 
Where  shadow  falls,  little  evaporates, 

Both  of  his  hands  upon  the  grass  outspread 
In  gentle  manner  did  my  Master  place  ; 
Whence  I,  who  of  his  action  was  aware, 

Extended  unto  him  my  tearful  cheeks  ; 

There  did  he  make  in  me  uncovered  wholly 
That  hue  which  Hell  had  covered  up  in  me. 


The  first  Angel  is  seen.  I25 

Then  came  we  down  upon  the  desert  shore 

Which  never  yet  saw  navigate  its  waters 

Any  that  afterward  had  known  return. 
There  he  begirt  me  as  the  other  pleased  ; 

0  marvellous  !  for  even  as  he  culled 

The  humble  plant,  such  it  sprang  up  again 

Suddenly  there  where  he  uprooted  it. 

Pur.  i.  13-136. 

The  sun  was  rising  :  when  behold  another  marvel. 

We  still  were  on  the  border  of  the  sea, 
Like  people  who  are  thinking  of  their  road, 
Who  go  in  heart,  and  with  the  body  stay  ; 

And  lo  !  as  when,  upon  the  approach  of  morning, 
Through  the  gross  vapors  Mars  grows  fiery  red 
Down  in  the  West  upon  the  ocean  floor, 

Appeared  to  me  —  may  I  again  behold  it  !  — 
A  light  along  the  sea  so  swiftly  coming, 
Its  motion  by  no  flight  of  wing  is  equalled ; 

From  which  when  I  a  little  had  withdrawn 

Mine  eyes,  that  I  might  question  my  Conductor, 
Again  I  saw  it  brighter  grown  and  larger. 

Then  on  each  side  of  it  appeared  to  me 

1  knew  not  what  of  white,  and  underneath  it 
Little  by  little  there  came  forth  another. 

My  master  yet  had  uttered  not  a  word 

While  the  first  whiteness  into  wings  unfolded ; 
But  when  he  clearly  recognized  the  pilot, 

He  cried :  '  Make  haste,  make  haste  to  bow  the  knee  ! 
Behold  the  Angel  of  God  !  fold  thou  thy  hands  ! 
Henceforward  shalt  thou  see  such  officers  ! 

See  how  he  scorneth  human  arguments, 

So  that  nor  oar  he  wants,  nor  other  sail  • 

Than  his  own  wings,  between  so  distant  shores. 


i  26  The  landing  of  the  Shades. 

See  how  he  holds  them  pointed  up  to  Heaven, 
Fanning  the  air  with  the  eternal  pinions, 
That  do  not  moult  themselves  like  mortal  hair! ' 

Then  as  still  nearer  and  more  near  us  came 
The  Bird  Divine,  more  radiant  he  appeared, 
So  that,  near  by,  the  eye  could  not  endure  him, 

But  down  I  cast  it ;  and  he  came  to  shore 
With  a  small  vessel,  very  swift  and  light, 
So  that  the  water  swallowed  naught  thereof. 

Upon  the  stern  stood  the  Celestial  Pilot  ; 
Beatitude  seemed  written  in  his  face, 
And  more  than  a  hundred  Spirits  sat  within. 

1  In  exitu  Israel  de  jEgypto  /  ' 

They  chanted  a'l  together  in  one  voice, 
With  whatso  in  that  psalm  is  after  written. 

Then  made  he  sign  of  holy  rood  upon  them, 
Whereat  all  cast  themselves  upon  the  shore, 
And  he  departed  swiftly  as  he  came. 

II.  10-51. 

The  newly  landed  troop  first  gazed  around  in  perplexity, 
then  seeing  two  strangers  asked  the  way,  but  of  course  in 
vain.  Dante's  breathing,  as  revealing  him  to  be  alive,  next 
excited  their  wondering  interest,  and  anon  one  pressed  for- 
ward to  embrace  him,  but  could  not  be  embraced  in  turn 
—  thrice  the  clasping  hands  met  behind  the  aerial  body, 
thrice  returned  empty  to  the  embracer's  breast.  This 
Shade  was  his  courteous  and  amiable  friend  Casella,  a  con- 
summate Florentine  musician  in  whose  singing  he  had  been 
wont  to  take  delight.  At  his  request  now  to  have  that 
delight  renewed,  a  Canzone  of  his  own  was  commenced 
\Mith  surpassing  sweetness  by  Casella,  and  all,  even  the 
philosophic  Virgil,  stood  entranced  to  hear.  But  not  for 


Virgil  casts  no  shadow.  i  2  7 

long :  the  rigid  Warden  Cato  with  one  sharp  rebuke 
chased  away  his  charges  towards  the  Mount,  and  conveyed 
to  Virgil  a  hint  quickly  applied. 

He  seemed  to  me  within  himself  remorseful ; 
O  noble  conscience,  and  without  a  stain, 
How  sharp  a  sting  is  trivial  fault  to  thee ! 

III.  7-9. 

When  at  length  the  two  Pilgrims  felt  free  somewhat  to 
slacken  their  hurried  steps,  Dante,  as  yet  inexperienced  in 
a  daylight  world  of  ghosts,  and  therefore  startled  to  notice 
no  shadow  but  his*,  own  cast  on  the  ground,  looked  round  in 
sudden  anxiety. 

1  Why  dost  thou  still  mistrust  ? '  my  Comforter 

Began  to  say  to  me  turned  wholly  round  ; 

*  Dost  thou  not  think  me  with  thee,  and  that  I  guide  thee  ? 
'Tis  evening  there  already  where  is  buried 

The  body  within  which  I  cast  a  shadow  ; 

'T  is  from  Brundusium  ta'en,  and  Naples  has  it 
Now  if  in  front  of  me  no  shadow  fall, 

Marvel  not  at  it  more  than  at  the  heavens, 

Because  one  ray  impedeth  not  another. 
To  suffer  torments,  both  of  cold  and  heat, 

Bodies  like  this  that  Power  provides,  Which  wills 

That  how  It  works  be  not  unveiled  to  us. 
Insane  is  he  who  hopeth  that  our  reason 

Can  traverse  the  illimitable  way, 

Which  the  One  Substance  in  Three  Persons  follows! 
Mortals,  remain  contented  at  the  Quia;1 

For  if  ye  had  been  able  to  see  all, 

1  '  Be  satisfied  with  knowing  that  a  thing  is,  without  asking  why  it 
is.  These  were  distinguished  in  scholastic  language  as  the  Demon- 
stratio  quia,  and  the  Demonstratio propter  quid? 


1 2  8  Ma  nfred  King  of  Nap  les 

No  need  there  were  for  Mary  to  give  birth; 

And  ye  have  seen  desiring  without  fruit, 

Those  whose  desire  would  have  been  quieted, 
Which  evermore  is  given  them  for  a  grief. 

I  speak  of  Aristotle  and  of  Plato, 
And  many  others  ; '  —  and  here  bowed  his  head, 
And  more  he  said  not,  and  remained  disturbed. 

in.  22-45. 

By  this  time  both  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain ;  the 
ascent  going  up  so  sheer  above  them  that  nothing  short  of 
wings  would  serve  the  turn.  As  they  mused  and  searched 
for  a  practicable  slope,  a  troop  of  Souls  were  seen  in  slowest 
movement  more  than  a  mile  off;  but  the  Poets  hastening 
towards  them  had  soon  diminished  this  distance  to  a  stone's- 
throw.  Then  the  sight  of  a  human  shadow  excited  for 
the  first  time  the  amazement  with  which  it  was  to  be  again 
and  again  greeted :  —  this  amazement  removed,  the  Shades 
directed  their  guests  in  the  way.  As  they  walked  along  one 
made  himself  known  as  Manfred  King  of  Naples  and  Sicily, 
grandson  of  the  Empress  Constance ;  he  did  not  call  him- 
self son  of  the  Emperor  Frederick  II.,  probably  because 
aware  that  this  last  was  entombed  in  the  City  of  Dis,  where 
we  saw  him  with  Farinata  and  Cavalcante.1  Manfred  had 
been  slain  at  Benevento  in  battle  for  his  throne  against 
Charles  of  Anjou  ;  and  now,  after  requesting  Dante  to 
obtain  for  him  the  prayers  of  his  daughter  Constance,  widow 
of  Peter  III.  of  Aragon  and  mother  of  the  reigning  Kings 
of  Aragon  and  Sicily,  he  told  of  his  own  death  and  burial :  — 
he  had  at  first  been  interred  by  order  of  his  victorious  rival 
at  the  foot  of  the  bridge  of  Benevento,  and  a  great  pile  of 

1  See  page  76. 


tells  of  his  death  and  burial.  129 

stones  heaped  on  his  grave ;  but  it  is  said  that  afterwards, 
by  command  of  Pope  Clement  V.,  the  Bishop  of  Cosenza 
removed  his  body  to  the  banks  of  the  River  Verde,  on  the 
Neapolitan  frontier.  His  own  words  are  : 

After  I  had  my  body  lacerated 

By  these  two  mortal  stabs,  I  gave  myself 
Weeping  to  Him,  Who  willingly  doth  pardon. 

Horrible  my  iniquities  had  been ; 

But  Infinite  Goodness  hath  such  ample  arms, 
That  It  receives  whatever  turns  to  It. 

Had  but  Cosenza's  pastor,  who  in  chase 
Of  me  was  sent  by  Clement  at  that  time, 
In  God  read  understandingly  this  page, 

The  bones  of  my  dead  body  still  would  be 
At  the  bridge-head,  near  unto  Benevento, 
Under  the  safeguard  of  the  heavy  cairn. 

Now  the  rain  bathes  and  moveth  them  the  wind, 
Beyond  the  realm,  almost  beside  the  Verde, 
Where  he  transported  them  with  tapers  quenched. 

By  malison  of  theirs  is  not  so  lost 
Eternal  Love,  that  It  cannot  return, 
So  long  as  hope  has  anything  of  green. 

True  is  it,  who  in  contumacy  dies 

Of  Holy  Church,  though  penitent  at  last, 
Must  wait  upon  the  outside  of  this  bank 

Thirty  times  told  the  time  that  he  has  been 
In  his  presumption,  unless  such  decree 
Shorter  by  means  of  righteous  prayers  become. 

See  now  if  thou  hast  power  to  make  me  happy, 
By  making  known  unto  my  good  Costanza 
How  thou  hast  seen  me,  and  this  ban  beside  ; 

For  those  on  earth  can  much  advance  us  here. 

ill.  118-145. 
9 


130-  The  steep  ascent. 

In  his  absorbed  attention  to  Manfred's  words  Dante  had 
forgotten  all  else ;  but  soon  after  9  A.  M.  the  friendly  Shades 
with  one  voice  indicated  the  sole  accessible  path,  narrower 
than  such  a  breach  in  a  hedge  as  might  be  stopped  with  one 
fork-load  of  brambles,  and  steeper  than  probably  the  very 
steepest  mountain-passes  Dante  had  seen  in  Italy. 

One  climbs  Sanleo  and  descends  in  Noli, 
And  mounts  the  summit  of  Bismantova, 
With  feet  alone  ;  but  here  one  needs  mi^st  fly  ; 

With  the  swift  pinions  and  the  plumes  I  say 
Of  great  desire,  conducted  after  him 
Who  gave  me  hope,  and  made  a  light  for  me. 

We  mounted  upward  through  the  rifted  rock, 
And  on  each  side  the  border  pressed  upon  us, 
And  feet  and  hands  the  ground  beneath  required. 

iv.  25-33. 

Thus  did  the  Pilgrims  manage  to  struggle  to  the  open 
mountain-side,  and  thence  to  the  first  stage  of  the  winding 
terrace ;  whereon  at  length  they  sat  down  to  rest,  looking 
seawards.  Virgil  as  usual  turned  the  time  to  account  by 
explaining  some  astronomical  phenomena  of  this  Antipodal 
Hemisphere,  and  was  just  comforting  his  disciple  with  a 
prospect  of  easier  ascents  in  the  sky-veiled  heights  and  of 
final  rest  at  the  top,  when  a  voice  near  them  saying,  '  Per- 
haps you  may  want  to  sit  down  before  that,'  made  them 
turn  and  draw  towards  a  rocky  mass  till  then  unnoticed. 
In  its  shade  were  seated  a  group  of  very  lazy-looking  Ghosts, 
lingering  out  a  time  corresponding  to  that  of  their  negligent 
delay  of  conversion.  One  with  his  arms  round  his  knees 
and  his  face  between  them  had  been  the  speaker — Belacqua, 
an  acquaintance  concerning  whose  salvation  Dante  had  been 


Belacqua.  131 


much  in  doubt,  and  who  now  struck  into  the  conversation 
in  a  tone  not  free  from  levity. 

His  sluggish  attitude  and  his  curt  words 
A  little  unto  laughter  moved  my  lips  ; 
Then  I  began :  *  Belacqua,  I  grieve  not 

For  thee  henceforth  ;  but  tell  me,  wherefore  seated 
In  this  place  art  thou  ?  Waitest  thou  an  escort? 
Or  has  thy  usual  habit  seized  upon  thee  ?' 

And  he  :  *  O  brother,  what 's  the  use  of  climbing? 
Since  to  my  torment  would  not  let  me  go 
The  Angel  of  God,  who  sitteth  at  the  gate. 

First  Heaven  must  needs  so  long  revolve  me  round 
Outside  thereof,  as  in  my  life  it  did, 
Since  the  good  sighs  I  to  the  end  postponed, 

Unless,  ere  that,  some  prayer  may  bring  me  aid 
Which  rises  from  a  heart  that  lives  in  grace: 
What  profit  others  that  in  Heaven  are  heard  not  ?  ' 

Meanwhile  the  Poet  was  before  me  mounting, 

And  saying :   '  Come  now  ;  see  the  sun  has  touched 
Meridian,  and  from  the  shore  the  night 

Covers  already  with  her  foot  Morocco.' 

I  had  already  from  those  Shades  departed, 
And  followed  in  the  footsteps  of  my  Guide, 
When  from  behind,  pointing  his  finger  at  me, 

One  shouted  :  *  See,  it  seems  as  if  shone  not 
The  sunshine  on  the  left  of  him  below, 
And  like  one  living  seems  he  to  conduct  him  !' 

Mine  eyes  I  turned  at  utterance  of  these  words, 
And  saw  them  watching  with  astonishment 
But  me,  but  me,  and  the  light  which  was  broken  ! 

'Why  doth  thy  mind  so  occupy  itself,' 
The  Master  said,  *  that  thou  thy  pace  dost  slacken  ? 
What  matters  it  to  thee  what  here  is  whispered  ? 


1 32         Count  Buonconte  di  Montefeltro 

Come  after  me,  and  let  the  people  talk  ; 

Stand  like  a  steadfast  tower,  that  never  wags 
Its  top  for  all  the  blowing  of  the  winds  ; 

For  evermore  the  man  in  whom  is  springing 

Thought  upon  thought,  removes  from  him  the  mark, 
Because  the  force  of  one  the  other  weakens.' 

What  could  I  say  in  answer  but  *  I  come  '  ? 
I  said  it  somewhat  with  that  color  tinged 
Which  makes  a  man  of  pardon  sometimes  worthy. 

iv.  121-139.     v-  1-21. 

The  next  troop  was  of  some  who  being  while  yet  uncon- 
verted smitten  with  a  violent  death-stroke,  had  in  their  few 
remaining  moments  been  enlightened  to  repent  and  to 
forgive.  Among  these  was  Count  Buonconte  di  Monte- 
feltro, son  of  that  Count  Guido  whom  we  already  know,1 
and  with  whose  history  his  own  strikingly  contrasts.  Buon- 
conte had  been  slain  in  the  battle  of  Campaldino,  command- 
ing on  the  Ghibelline  side ;  and  Dante,  in  that  battle  his 
Guelph  opponent,  meeting  him  here  eagerly  inquired, 

*  What  violence  or  what  chance 
Led  thee  astray  so  far  from  Campaldino 
That  never  has  thy  sepulture  been  known  ? ' 
*  Oh,'  he  replied,  'at  Casentino's  foot 
A  river  crosses  named  Archiano,  born 
Above  the  Hermitage  in  Apennine. 
.  There  where  the  name  thereof  becometh  void 

Did  I  arrive,  pierced  through  and  through  the  throat, 
Fleeing  on  foot,  and  bloodying  the  plain  ; 
There  my  sight  lost  I,  and  my  utterance 
Ceased  in  the  name  of  Mary,  and  thereat 
I  fell,  and  tenantless  my  flesh  remained. 

1  See  page  87. 


in  repentance  and  after  death.  1 33 

Truth  will  I  speak,  repeat  it  to  the  living  ; 
God's  Angel  took  me  up,  and  he  of  Hell 
Shouted  :  "  O  thou  from  Heaven,  why  dost  thou  rob  me  ? 

Thou  bearest  away  the  eternal  part  of  him, 

For  one  poor  little  tear,  that  takes  him  from  me  ; 
But  with  the  rest  I  '11  deal  in  other  fashion !  " 

Well  knowest  thou  how  in  the  air  is  gathered 
That  humid  vapor  which  to  water  turns, 
Soon  as  it  rises  where  the  cold  doth  grasp  it. 

He  joined  that  evil  will,  which  aye  seeks  evil, 
To  intellect,  and  moved  the  mist  and  wind 
By  means  of  power,  which  his  own  nature  gave  ; 

Thereafter,  when  the  day  was  spent,  the  valley 
From  Pratomagno  to  the  great  yoke  covered 
With  fog,  and  made  the  heaven  above  intent, 

So  that  the  pregnant  air  to  water  changed  ; 
Down  fell  the  rain,  and  to  the  gullies  came 
Whate'er  of  it  earth  tolerated  not ; 

And  as  it  mingled  with  the  mighty  torrents, 
Towards  the  royal  river  with  such  speed 
It  headlong  rushed,  that  nothing  held  it  back. 

My  frozen  body  near  unto  its  outlet 

The  robust  Archian  found,  and  into  Arno 
Thrust  it,  and  loosened  from  my  breast  the  cross 

I  made  of  me,  when  agony  o'ercame  me  ; 

It  rolled  me  on  the  banks  and  on  the  bottom  ; 
Then  with  its  booty  covered  and  begirt  me.' 

v.  91-129. 

To  this  class  of  the  slain  by  violence  belonged  also  the 
Pisan  Farinata  degli  Scornigiani,  whose  death  is  variously 
attributed  to  Beccio  da  Caprona  and  to  Count  Ugolino 
della  Gherardesca,  whom  we  saw  in  Hell.1  It  is  said  that 

1  See  page  97. 


1 34      Virgil  discourses  concerning  Prayer. 

Farinata's  father,  here  expressly  called  '  the  good  Marzucco,' 
a  Minorite  friar,  in  company  with  the  other  friars  attended 
his  funeral,  and  entreated  the  whole  family  to  abstain  from 
vengeance.1  —  All  this  band  of  Spirits  spoke  like  Belacqua 
of  prayers  on  earth  as  their  sole  possible  succor,  and  un- 
like him  besought  Dante  to  procure  them  that  succor; 
thus  suggesting  to  his  mind  a  difficulty  which  his  Master 
professed  not  confidently  to  solve. 

As  soon  as  I  was  free  from  all  those  Shades 
Who  only  prayed  that  some  one  else  may  pray, 
So  as  to  hasten  their  becoming  holy, 

Began  I  :  '  It  appears  that  thou  deniest, 
O  light  of  mine,  expressly  in  some  text,2 
That  orison  can  bend  decree  of  Heaven  ; 

And  ne'ertheless  these  people  pray  for  this. 
Might  then  their  expectation  bootless  be  ? 
Or  is  to  me  thy  saying  not  quite  clear  ?  ' 

And  he  to  me  :  '  My  writing  is  explicit, 
And  not  fallacious  is  the  hope  of  these, 
If  with  sane  intellect  't  is  well  regarded ; 

For  top  of  judgment  doth  not  vail  itself,8 
Because  the  fire  of  love  fulfils  at  once 
What  he  must  satisfy  who  here  installs  him. 

And  there,  where  I  affirmed  that  proposition, 
Defect  was  not  amended  by  a  prayer, 
Because  the  prayer  from  God  was  separate. 


3  Fraticelli  and  Longfellow,  Pur,  vi.  17,  18.    Various  accounts  how- 
ever are  given  by  different  authorities. 

2  '  In  jEneid  vi  :  "  Cease  to  hope  that  the  decrees  of  the  gods  are 
to  be  changed  by  prayers." ' 

3  The  highest  point  of  God's  judgment:  does  not  bend. 


Sordello  of  Mantua.  135 

Verily,  in  so  deep  a  questioning 

Do  not  decide,  unless  she  tell  it  tbee, 
Who  light  'twixt  truth  and  intellect  shall  be. 

I  know  not  if  thou  understand;  I  speak 
Of  Beatrice  ;  her  shalt  thou  see  above, 
Smiling  and  happy,  on  this  mountain's  top.' 

vi.  25-48. 

Already  the  way  was  felt  to  be  easier,  and  Dante  in- 
spired by  the  thought  of  Beatrice  was  craving  more  rapid 
progress,  when  suddenly  a  Shade  keeping  solitary  watch 
caught  Virgil's  eye ;  and  a  request  for  guidance  was  an- 
swered with  an  inquiry  respecting  the  Pilgrims'  country  and 
condition.  The  mere  name  of  Mantua  instantly  quickened 
indifference  into  interest  and  love,  for  this  Shade  was  the 
Mantuan  Poet-Podesta  Sordello ; J  the  name  of  Virgil  awed 
love  into  reverence.  The  reiterated  request  to  be  shown 
the  shortest  way  to  Purgatory  proper  now  elicited  the  in- 
formation that  in  the  rapidly  supervening  darkness  it  would 

he  impns<ribk  J£L£dLf!2— ~J  an(^  t^ie  welcome  off61"  °f  m" 
troduction  into  a  nocturnal  sojourn  tenanted  by  Shades 
whose  acquaintance  would  give  pleasure. 

Little  had  we  withdrawn  us  from  that  place, 
When  I  perceived  the  mount  was  hollowed  out 
In  fashion  as  the  valleys  here  are  hollowed. 


1  It  seems  to  me  on  the  whole  most  probable  that  Sordello  was  both 
poet  and  podesta.  Dante  (De  Volg.  El.  i.  15)  speaks  of  Sordello  of 
Mantua  as  a  poet ;  and  all  those  with  whom  he  is  here  associated  are 
Princes  and  Rulers.  Quadrio  (Storia  d'ogni  Poesia,  ii.  130),  though 
without  giving  his  authorities,  adopts  the  same  conclusion  as  I  have 
done  respecting  this  vexed  question.  (See  Longfellow  on  Pur.  vi.  74.) 


1 36  The  Dell  of  Princes. 

'  Thitherward,'  said  that  Shade,  '  will  we  repair, 
Where  of  itself  the  hill-side  makes  a  lap, 
And  there  for  the  new  day  will  we  await,' 

'Twixt  hill  and  plain  there  was  a  winding  path 
Which  led  us  to  the  margin  of  that  dell, 
Where  dies  the  border  more  than  half  away. 

Gold  and  fine  silver,  and  scarlet  and  pearl-white, 
The  Indian  wood  resplendent  and  serene, 
Fresh  emerald  the  moment  it  is  broken, 

By  herbage  and  by  flowers  within  that  hollow 
Planted,  each  one  in  color  would  be  vanquished, 
As  by  its  greater  vanquished  is  the  less. 

Nor  in  that  place  had  nature  painted  only, 
But  of  the  sweetness  of  a  thousand  odors 
Made  there  a  mingled  fragrance  and  unknown. 

' Salve  Reginaj  on  the  green  and  flowers 
There  seated,  singing,  Spirits  I  beheld, 
Which  were  not  visible  outside  the  valley. 

vn.  64  84. 

These  Spirits,  of  whom  Sordello  himself  was  one,  were 
Princes  and  Rulers  who  for  love  of  things  not  in  them- 
selves sinful  had  postponed  conversion  or  been  negligent 
of  good.  Long  Dante  gazed  from  above  as  his  new  friend 
pointed  out  renowned  Shade  after  Shade :  —  Rodolph  of 
Hapsburg  comforted  by  his  chief  opponent  Ottocar  of 
Bohemia;  Philippe  le  Hardi  in  consultation  with  Henry 
III.  of  Navarre,  the  one  father,  the  other  father-in-law,  to 
the  reigning  '  Pest  of  France,'  Philippe  le  Bel ;  Peter  III. 
of  Aragon  singing  in  accord  with  his  quondam  adversary 
Charles  I.  of  Naples.  And  as  the  sight  of  these  Princes 
suggested  the  thought  of  those  who  now  occupied  their 
thrones,  Sordello  gave  utterance  to  the  reflection  — 


The  Compline  hymn  is  sung.  137 

Not  oftentimes  upriseth  through  the  branches 
The  probity  of  man ;  and  this  He  wills 
Who  gives  it,  so  that  we  may  ask  of  Him.1 

vn.  121-123. 

Seated  alone  was  Henry  III.  of  England,  '  the  King  of  the 
simple  life ; '  his  posterity  is  expressly  excepted  from  the 
censure  passed  on  that  of  his  associates. 

We  shall  find  Dante  recur  in  the  Paradise  to  this  subject 
of  the  degeneracy  of  sons  from  fathers ; 2  it  seems  to  have 
greatly  occupied  his  mind.  But 

'T  was  .now  the  hour  that  turneth  back  desire 
In  those  who  sail  the  sea,  and  melts  the  heart, 
The  day  they  've  said  to  their  sweet  friends  farewell, 

And  the  new  pilgrim  penetrates  with  love, 
If  he  doth  hear  from  far  away  a  bell 
That  seemeth  to  deplore  the  dying  day, 

When  I  began  to  make  of  no  avail 

My  hearing,  and  to  watch  one  of  the  Souls 
Uprisen,  that  begged  attention  with  its  hand. 

It  joined  and  lifted  upward  both  its  palms, 
Fixing  its  eyes  upon  the  orient, 
As  if  it  said  to  God,  «  Naught  else  I  care  for.' 

'  Te  lucis  ante,"*  3  so  devoutly  issued 

Forth  from  its  mouth,  and  with  such  dulcet  notes, 
It  made  me  issue  forth  from  my  own  mind. 
,  And  then  the  others,  sweetly  and  devoutly, 

Accompanied  it  through  all  the  hymn  entire, 
Having  their  eyes  on  the  supernal  wheels. 

1  I  think  the  sense  of  the  last  line  and  a  half  is  rather :  '  this  He 
wills  Who  gives  it,  in  order  that  it  may  be  ascribed  to  Him.' 

2  See  page  229. 

8  The  first  words  of  the  Compline  hymn,  which  contains  a  prayer 
against  the  Enemy. 


1 38  The  descent  of  two  Angels. 

Here,  Reader,  fix  thine  eyes  well  on  the  {ruth, 

For  now  indeed  so  subtile  is  the  veil, 

Surely  to  penetrate  within  is  easy. 
I  saw  that  army  of  the  gentle-born 

Thereafterward  in  silence  upward  gaze, 

As  if  in  expectation,  pale  and  humble  ; 
And  from  on  high  come  forth  and  down  descend, 

I  saw  two  Angels  with  two  flaming  swords, 

Truncated  and  deprived  of  their  points. 
Green  as  the  little  leaflets  just  now  born 

Their  garments  were,  which,  by  their  verdant  pinions 

Beaten  and  blown  abroad,  they  trailed  behind. 
One  just  above  us  came  to  take  his  station, 

And  one  descended  to  the  opposite  bank, 

So  that  the  people  were  contained  between  them. 
Clearly  in  them  discerned  I  the  blond  head  ; 

But  in  their  faces  was  the  eye  bewildered, 

As  faculty  confounded  by  excess. 
*  From  Mary's  bosom  both  of  them  have  come,' 

Sordello  said,  *  as  guardians  of  the  valley 

Against  the  serpent,  that  will  come  anon/ 

vin.  1-39. 

Descending  now  into  the  dell  with  the  courteous  guide 
Dante  recognized  a  friend,  the  Sardinian  Judge  Nino  de' 
Visconti,  who  seized  the  opportunity  of  sending  to  ask 
the  innocent  prayers  of  his  little  daughter  Giovanna.  Yet 
almost  as  he  spoke, 

My  greedy  eyes  still  wandered  up  to  Heaven, 

Still  to  that  point  where  slowest  are  the  stars, 

Even  as  a  wheel  the  nearest  to  its  axle. 
And  my  Conductor :  '  Son,  what  dost  thou  gaze  at 

Up  there  ?'     And  I  to  him  :  '  At  those  three  torches 

With  which  this  hither  pole  is  all  on  fire.' 


The  Serpent' s  flight.    Dante  borne  upward.   1 39 

And  he  to  me  :  '  The  four  resplendent  stars 

Thou  sawest  this  morning  are  down  yonder  low, 
And  these  have  mounted  up  to  where  those  were.' 

As  he  was  speaking,  to  himself  Sordello 

Drew  him,  and  said,  '  Lo  there  our  Adversary  ! ' 
And  pointed  with  his  finger  to  look  thither. 

Upon  the  side  on  which  the  little  valley 
No  barrier  hath,  a  serpent  was  ;  perchance 
The  same  which  gave  to  Eve  the  bitter  food. 

'Twixt  grass  and  flowers  came  on  the  evil  streak, 
Turning  at  times  its  head  about,  and  licking 
Its  back  like  to  a  beast  that  smooths  itself. 

I  did  not  see,  and  therefore  cannot  say 
How  the  celestial  falcons  'gan  to  move, 
But  well  I  saw  that  they  were  both  in  motion. 

Hearing  the  air  cleft  by  their  verdant  wings, 
The  serpent  fled,  and  round  the  Angels  wheeled, 

Up  to  their  stations  flying  back  alike. 

vin.  85-108. 

After  converse  prolonged  through  the  night,  towards 
dawn  of  Easter  Monday  the  only  Flesh  among  all  these 
Spirits  dropped  asleep ;  dreamed  of  JoveJsJEagle ..swooping 
^ojsrn^and  carrying  him  up  into  the  scorching  Fire-Sphere  ; 
and  awoke,  but  not  where  his  sleep  had  fallen  upon  him. 

Only  my  Comforter  was  at  my  side, 
And  now  the  sun  was  more  than  two  hours  high, 
And  turned  towards  the  sea-shore  was  my  face. 

*  Be  not  intimidated,'  said  my  Lord, 
1  Be  reassured,  for  all  is  well  with  us  ; 
Do  not  restrain,  but  put  forth  all  thy  strength. 

Thou  hast  at  length  arrived  at  Purgatory ; 
See  there  the  cliff  that  closes  it  around  ; 
See  there  the  entrance,  where  it  seems  disjoined. 


140       Liicia  lays  Dante  before  the  Gate. 


Whilom  at  dawn,  which  doth  precede  the  day, 

When  inwardly  thy  spirit  was  asleep 

Upon  the  flowers  that  deck  the  land  below, 
There  came  a  Lady  and  said  :  "J_a,pi  Lur^a.  ; 

Let  me  take  this  one  up,  who  is  asleep  : 

So  will  I  make  his  journey  easier  for  him." 
Sordello  and  the  other  noble  shapes 

Remained  ;  she  took  thee,  and,  as  day  grew  bright, 

Upward  she  came,  and  I  upon  her  footsteps. 
She  laid  thee  here  ;  and  first  her  beauteous  eyes 

That  open  entrance  pointed  out  to  me  ; 

Then  she  and  sleep  together  went  away.' 
In  guise  of  one  whose  doubts  are  reassured, 

And  who  to  confidence  his  fear  doth  change, 

After  the  truth  has  been  discovered  to  him, 
So  did  I  change  ;  and  when  without  disquiet 

My  Leader  saw  me,  up  along  the  cliff 

He  moved,  and  I  behind  him,  tow'rd  the  height. 
Reader,  thou  seest  well  how  I  exalt 

My  theme,  and  therefore  if  with  greater  art 

I  fortify  it,  marvel  not  thereat. 
Nearer  approached  we,  and  were  in  such  place, 

That  there,  where  first  appeared  to  me  a  rift 

Like  to  a  crevice  that  disparts  a  wall, 
I  saw  a  portal,  and  three  stairs  beneath, 

Diverse  in  color,  to  go  up  to  it, 

And  a  gate-keeper,  who  yet  spake  no  word. 
And  as  I  opened  more  and  more  mine  eyes, 

I  saw  him  seated  on  the  highest  stair, 

Such  in  the  face  that  I  endured  it  not. 
And  in  his  hand  he  had  a  naked  sword, 

Which  so  reflected  back  the  sunbeams  tow'rds  us, 

That  oft  in  vain  I  lifted  up  mine  eyes. 
'  Tell  it  from  where  you  are,  what  is  't  you  wish  ?  ' 


The  graving  of  the  seven  P's.  1 4 1 

Began  he  to  exclaim  ;  '  Where  is  the  escort  ? 
Take  heed  your  coming  hither  harm  you  not ! ' 

'  A  Lady  of  Heaven,  with  these  things  conversant,' 
My  Master  answered  him,  '  but  even  now 
Said  to  us,  "  Thither  go  ;  there  is  the  portal."  ' 

*  And  may  she  speed  your  footsteps  in  all  good,' 
Again  began  the  courteous  janitor  ; 
*  Come  forward  then  unto  these  stairs  of  ours.' 

Thither  did  we  approach  ;  and  the  first  stair 
Was  marble  white,  so  polished  and  so  smooth, 
I  mirrote^Lnry^elf  therein  as  I  appear. 

The  second,  tinct  of  deeper  hue  than  perse, 
Was  of  a  calcined  and  uneven  stone, 
Cracked  all  asunder  lengthwise  and  across. 

The  third,  that  uppermost  rests  massively, 
Porphyry  seemed  to  me,  as  flaming  red 
As  blood  that  from  a  vein  is  spurting  forth. 

Both  of  his  feet  was  holding  upon  this 

The  Angel  of  God,  upon  the  threshold  seated, 
Which  seemed  to  me  a  stone  of  diamond. 

Along  the  three  stairs  upward  with  good-will 
Did  my  Conductor  draw  me,  saying  :  •  Ask 
Humbly  that  he  the  fastening  may  undo.' 

Devoutly  at  the  holy  feet  I  cast  me, — * 

For  mercy's  sake  besought  that  he  would  open, 
But  first  upon  myj^reast  three  times...  Lsmote. 

Seven  P'sjirjpnjmyjEorehea(J  he.  Described 
With  the  sword's  point,  and,  *  Take  heed  that  thou  wash 
These  wounds,  when  thou  shalt  be  within,'  he  said. 

ix.  43-114. 

This  sevenfold  graving  of  P  (the  initial  of  Peccatum  = 
Sin)  signifies  the  .bringing  out  by  reproof  of  the  distinct 
marks,  already  too  surely  branded  within,  of  the  seven 


142  The  Gate  unlocked  and  passed. 

Capital  Sins,  to  be  then  effaced  from  body  and  soul  by  the 
works  of  satisfaction  enjoined  as  sacramental  penance.  It 
is  noteworthy  that  no  allusion  is  made  to  these  P's  as  traced 
on  the  forehead  of  any  Shade,  and  yet  none  expresses  sur- 
prise at  seeing  them  on  Dante's. 

Ashes,  or  earth  that  dry  is  excavated, 
Of  the  same  color  were  with  his  attire, 
And  from  beneath  it  he  drew  forth  two  keys 

One  was  of  gold,  and  the  other  was  of  silver ; 
First  with  the  white,  and  after  with  the  yellow, 
Plied  he  the  door,  so  that  I  was  content. 

*  Whenever  faileth  either  of  these  keys 
So  that  it  turn  not  rightly  in  the  lock/ 
He  said  to  us,  '  this  entrance  doth  not  open. 

More  precious  one  is,  but  the  other  needs 
More  art  and  intellect  ere  it  unlock, 
For  it  is  that  which  doth  the  knot  unloose. 

From  Peter  I  have  them  ;  and  he  bade  me  err 
Rather  in  opening  than  in  keeping  shut, 
If  people  but  fall  down  before  my  feet.' 

Then  pushed  the  portals  of  the  sacred  door, 
Exclaiming:  *  Enter  ;  but  I  give  you  warning 
That  forth  returns  whoever  looks  behind.' 

ix.  115-132. 

The  Gate  opened,^:.  fieum^Jaudamus  resounded  from 
within ;  the  Gate  passed,  more  than  an  hour  was  occupied 
in  the  zigzag  ascent :  till  at  about  10  A.  M.  one  Pilgrim 
weary,  and  both  uncertain  of  the  way,  stood  on  the  First 
Terrace  of  Purgatory,  and  stood  there  alone. 

Thereon  our  feet  had  not  been  moved  as  yet, 
When  I  perceived  the  embankment  round  about, 


The  sculptured  examples  of  Humility.     143 

Which  all  right  of  ascent  had  interdicted, 

To  be  of  marble  white,  and  so  adorned 
With  sculptures,  that  not  only  Polycletus, 
But  Nature's  self,  had  there  been  put  to  shame.  -— J 

The  Angel,  who  came  down  to  earth  with  tidings 
Of  peace,  that  had  been  wept  for  many  a  year, 
And  opened  Heaven  from  its  long  interdict, 

In  front  of  us  appeared  so  truthfully 
There  sculptured  in  a  gracious  attitude, 
He  did  not  seem  an  image  that  is  silent. 

One  would  have  sworn  that  he  was  saying  '  Ave^; 
For  she  was  there  in  effigy  portrayed 
Who  turned  the  key  to  ope  the  exalted  love, 

And  in  her  mien  this  language  had  impressed, 
*Ecce  ancilla  Dei?  as  distinctly 

As  any  figure  stamps  itself  in  wax. 

x.  28-45. 

Many  more  sculptured  examples  of  Humility  followed 
along  the  bank;  and  in  all,  spoken  words  were  after  a 
marvellous  fashion  rendered  sensible  to  the  eye. 

He  who  on  no  new  thing  has  ever  looked 
Was  the  Creator  of  this  visible  languageV"" 
Novel  to  us,  for  here  it  is  not  found. 

While  I  delighted  me  in  contemplating 
The  images  of  such  humility, 
And  dear  to  look  on  for  their  Maker's  sake, 

f  Behold,  upon  this  side,  but  rare  they  make 

Their  steps,'  the  Poet  murmured,  '  many  people  ; 
These  will  direct  us  to  the  lofty  stairs.'-^' 

Mine  eyes,  that  in  beholding  were  intent 

To  see  new  things,  of  which  they  curious  are, 
In  turning  round  towards  him  were  not  slow. 

But  still  I  wish  not,  Reader,  thou  shouldst  swerve 


1 4  4  The  Pen  it  en  is  for  Pride  : 


From  thy  good  purposes,  because  thou  hearest 
How  God  ordaineth  that  the  debt  be  paid  ; 
Attend  not  to  the  fashion  of  the  torment, 

Think  of  what  follows  ;  think  that  at  the  worst 
It  cannot  reach  beyond  the  mighty  sentence.1 

x.  94-1 1 1. 

At  first  sight  it  may  seem  surprising  that  after  so  awfully 
setting  before  his  reader  the  pains  of  Hell  incurred  by  jicrt 
forming  or  not  fulfilling  good  purposes,  Dante  should  fear 
turning  him  aside  from  any  such  purpose  by  setting  before 
him  his  liability,  notwithstanding,  to  the  pains  of  Purgatory. 
But  as  we  have  seen,2  the  subject  of  the  Cantica  is  jiot 
restricted  to  the  purgatipjn  of  Souls  after  death ;  it  likewise 
exhibits  the  cleansing  frornsm_jmdtl^^  of 

"good  for  evil  habits  in  life.  The  alternative  presented 
will  not  therefore  be  at  first  that  between  Hell  and  Purga- 
tory, but  that  between  the  ease— anxL-^leajures  of  Vice  on 
the  one  hand,  and  the  toils  and  sufferings  of^tesistingVice 
on  the  other. 

'  Master,'  began  I,  « that  which  I  behold 

Moving  towards  us  seems  to  me  not  persons, 
And  what  I  know  not,  so  in  sight  I  waver.' 

And  he  to  me  :  *  The  grievous  quality 

Of  this  their  torment  bows  them  so  to  earth, 
That  my  own  eyes  at  first  contended  with  it ; 

But  look  there  fixedly,  and  disentangle 

By  sight  what  cometh  underneath  those  stones  ; 
Already  canst  thou  see  how  each  is  stricken.' 

O  ye  proud  Christians  !  wretched,  weary  ones  ! 
Who,  in  the  vision  of  the  mind  infirm, 

1  The  Last  Judgment.  2  See  p.  112. 


their  chastisement  and  their  prayer.      145 


Confidence  have  in  your  backsliding 

Do  ye  not  comprehend  that  we  are  worms, 
Born  to  bring  forth  the  angelic  butterfly      i^ 
That  flieth  unto  j'u^menT^ftFoliirscreeh  ? 

Why  floats  aloft  your  spirit  high  in  air  ? 
Like  are  ye  unto  insects  undeveloped, 
Even  as  the  worm  in  whom  formation  fails  ! 

As  to  sustain  a  ceiling  or  a  roof, 

In  place  of  corbel,  oftentimes  a  figure 
Is  seen  to  join  unto  its  knees  its  breast, 

Which  makes  of  the  unreal  real  anguish 
Arise  in  him  who  sees  it  ;  fashioned  thus 
Beheld  I  those,  when  I  had  ta'en  good  heed. 

True  is  it,  they  were  more  or  less  bent  down, 
According  as  they  more  or  less  were  laden  ; 
And  he  who  had  most  patience  in  his  looks 

Weeping  did  seem  to  say,  *  I  can  no  more  !  ' 

1  Our  Father,  Thou  Who  dwellest  in  the  heavens, 
Not  circumscribed,  but  from  the  greater  love 
Thou  bearest  to  the  first  effects  on  high,2 

Praised  be  Thy  Name  and  Thine  Omnipotence 
By  every  creature,  as  befitting  is 
To  render  thanks  to  Thy  sweet  Effluence. 

Come  unto  us  the  peace  of  Thy  dominion, 
For  unto  it  we  cannot  of  ourselves, 
If  it  come  not,  with  all  our  intellect. 

Even  as  Thine  own  Angels  of  their  will 
Make  sacrifice  to  Thee,  Hosanna  singing, 
So  may  all  men  make  sacrifice  of  theirs. 

1  You  think  to  advance  by  means  of  pride,  whereas  in  truth  you 


2  Not  as  being  confined  to  place,  but  as  bearing  greater  love  to  those 
first  and  highest  creatures  who  dwell  there. 


146          The  Proud  learning  Humility. 

Give  unto  us  this  day  our  daily  manna, 
Withouten  which  in  this  rough  wilderness 
Backward  goes  he  who  toils  most  to  advance. 

And  even  as  we  the  trespass  we  have  suffered 
Pardon  in  one  another,  pardon  Thou 
Benignly,  and  regard  not,our  desert. 

Our  virtue,  which  is  easily  o'ercome, 
Put  not  to  proof  with  the  old  Adversary, 
But  Thou  from  him  who  spurs  it  so,  deliver. 

This  last  petition  verily,  dear  Lord, 

Not  for  ourselves  is  made,  who  need  it  not, 

But  for  their  sake  who  have  remained  behind  us.' 

x.  112-139.     XL  1-24. 

The  Souls  in  Purgatory  need  jiof  to  deprecate  tempta- 
tion, because  so  confirmed  in  grace  as  to  be  incapable  of 

sin. 

Thus  for  themselves  and  us  good  furtherance 
Those  Shades  imploring,  went  beneath  a  weight 
Like  unto  that  of  which  we  sometimes  dream, 

Unequally  in  anguish  round  and  round 
And  weary  all,  upon  that  foremost  cornice, 
Purging  away  the  smoke-stains  of  the  world. 

If  there  good  words  are  always  said  for  us, 
What  may  not  here  be  said  and  done  for  them, 
By  those  who  have  a  good  root  to  their  will  ? 

Well  may  we  help  them  wash  away  the  marks 
That  hence  they  carried,  so  that  clean  and  light 
They  may  ascend  unto  the  starry  wheels  ! 

XI.  25-36. 

Virgil's   customary  inquiry  for  a  practicable   slope   was 
courteously  answered,   though  the  posture  of  the   Shades, 
made   it  impossible   to   feel   sure   from  whom  the   answer 


Omberto  A  Idob  randeschi,  Oderisi  d'  Agobbio.  147 

came ;  but  it  contained  an  invitation  to  accompany  the 
toiling  procession,  and  the  inviter  made  himself  known  as 
the  Tuscan  Omberto  Aldobrandeschi,  so  hated  as  to  have 
been  actually  murdered  by  the  Sienese  for  his  family  sin, 
pride  of  birth :  —  now  he  humbly  questioned  whether  his 
living  guest  had  ever  heard  his  father  Guglielmo's  name. 

Listening  I  downward  bent  my  countenance  ; 
And  one  of  them,  not  this  one  who  was  speaking, 
Twisted  himself  beneath  the  weight  that  cramps  him, 

And  looked  at  me,  and  knew  me,  and  called  out, 
Keeping  his  eyes  laboriously  fixed 
On  me,  who  all  bowed  down  was  going  with  them. 

*  O,'  asked  I  him,  « art  thou  not  Oderisi, 

Agobbio's  honor,  and  honor  of  that  art 
Which  is  in  Paris  called  illuminating  ?  ' 

*  Brother,'  said  he,  'more  laughing  are  the, leaves 

Touched  by  the  brush  of  Franco  Bolognese  ; 

All  his  the  honor  now,  and  mine  in  part. 
In  sooth  I  had  not  been  so  courteous 

While  I  was  living,  for  the  great  desire 

Of  excellence,  on  which  my  heart  was  bent. 
Here  of  such  pride  is  paid  the  forfeiture  ; 

And  yet  I  should  not  be  here,  were  it  not 

That,  having  power  to  sin,  I  turned  to  God. 
O  thou  vain  glory  of  the  human  powers, 

How  little  green  upon  thy  summit  lingers, 

If 't  be  not  followed  by  an  age  of  grossness  !  * 
In  painting  Cimabue  thought  that  he 

Should  hold  the  field,  now  Giotto  has  the  cry, 

So  that  the  other's  fame  is  growing  dim. 

1  How  shortlived  art  thou,  except  an  age  of  ignorance  immediately 
succeed  ;  for  otherwise  the  next  generation  surpasses  and  effaces  thee. 


48  Provenzan  Salvani. 

So  has  one  Guido  from  the  other  taken  * 
The  glory  of  our  tongue,  and  he  perchance 
Is  born,  who  from  the  nest  shall  chase  them  both. 

Naught  is  this  mundane  rumor  but  a  breath 

Of  wind,  that  comes  now  this  way  and  now  that, 
And  changes  name,  because  it  changes  side. 

What  fame  shalt  thou  have  more,  if  old  peel  off 
From  thee  thy  flesh,  than  if  thou  hadst  been  dead 
Before  thou  left  the  pappo  and  the  dindi? 

Ere  pass  a  thousand  years  ?  which  is  a  shorter 
Space  to  the  eterne,  than  twinkling  of  an  eye 
Unto  the  circle  that  in  heaven  wheels  slowest.' 

xi.  73-108. 


The  sin  of  Oderisi  had  been  pride  of  intellect ;  that  of 
the  Shade  next  before  him  —  Proyenzan  Salvani  —  prjde  of 
dominion ;  he  had  been  Podesta  of  Siena,  and  unpopular 
as~~such.  His  death  in  the  battle  of  Colle  having  taken 
place  no  earlier  than  A.  D.  1269,  Dante,  surprised  to  find 
him  already  beyond ^  the  Gate_gl.5^Eeter,  inquired  how  his 
due  period  of  detention  in  Ante-Purgatory  had  been 
.shortened ;  and  learned  that  in  his  lifetime  he  had  merited 
this  grace  by  a  most  painful  act  of  voluntary  humiliation. 
A  friend  of  his  was  a  war-prisoner  of  Charles  of  Anjou,  who 
would  take  no  less  life-ransom  than  a  sum  of  ten  thousand 
golden  florins :  and  Provenzano,  then  at  the  height  of  his 
glory,  had  in  the  garb  of  a  beggar  seated  himself  on  a  mat 
in  a  public  square  of  Siena,  and  had  successfully  begged  of 
the  passers-by  aid  for  his  friend. 

1  Probably  Guido  Cavalcanti  (see  p.  76)  from  Guido  Guinicelli  (see 

P-  i?7)- 

2  Baby  language. 


w: 

UNI V KM 


The  sculptured  instances  ofi3:~g£J%£~-- 149 


Abreast,  like  oxen  going  in  a  yoke, 
I  with  that  heavy-laden  Soul  went  on, 
As  long  as  the  sweet  pedagogue  permitted  ; 

But  when  he  said,  '  Leave  him,  and  onward  pass, 
For  here  'tis  good  that  with  the  sail  and  oars, 
As  much  as  may  be,  each  push  on  his  barque ; ' 

Upright,  as  walking  wills  it,  I  redressed 

My  person,  notwithstanding  that  my  thoughts 
Remained  within  me  downcast  and  abashed. 

I  had  moved  on,  and  followed  willingly 
The  footsteps  of  my  Master,  and  we  both 
Already  showed  how  light  of  foot  we  were, 

When  unto  me  he  said  :  '  Cast  down  thine  eyes  ; 
'T  were  well  for  thee,  to  alleviate  the  way, 
To  look  upon  the  bed  beneath  thy  feet.' 

As,  that  some  memory  may  exist  of  them, 
Above  the  buried  dead  their  tombs  in  earth 
Bear  sculptured  on  them  what  they  were  before  ; 

Whence  often  there  we  weep  for  them  afresh, 
From  pricking  of  remembrance,  which  alone 
To  the  compassionate  doth  set  its  spur; 

So  saw  I  there,  but  of  a  better  semblance 
In  point  of  artifice,  with  figures  covered 
Whate'er  as  pathway  from  the  mount  projects. 

I  saw  that  one  who  was  created  noble 
More  than  all  other  creatures,  down  from  heaven 
Flaming  with  lightnings  fall  upon  one  side. 

I  saw  Briareus  smitten  by  the  dart 
Celestial,  lying  on  the  other  side, 
Heavy  upon  the  earth  by  mortal  frost. 

I  saw  Thymbraeus,1  Pallas  saw,  and  Mars, 
Still  clad  in  armor  round  about  their  father, 

1  Apollo. 


150  Instances  of  Pride  continued. 

Gaze  at  the  scattered  members  of  the  giants. 
I  saw,  at  foot  of  his  great  labor,  Nimrod, 
As  if  bewildered,  looking  at  the  people 
Who  had  been  proud  with  him  in  Sennaar. 

O  Niobe  !  with  what  afflicted  eyes 
Thee  I  beheld  upon  the  pathway  traced, 
Between  thy  seven  and  seven  children  slain  ! 

O  Saul !  how  fallen  upon  thy  proper  sword 
Didst  thou  appear  there  lifeless  in  Gilboa, 
That  felt  thereafter  neither  rain  nor  dew  ! 

O  mad  Arachne  !  so  I  thee  beheld 

E'en  then  half  spider,  sad  upon  the  shreds 
Of  fabric  wrought  in  evil  hour  for  thee  ! 

O  Rehoboam  !  no  more  seems  to  threaten 
Thine  image  there ;  but  full  of  consternation 
A  chariot  bears  it  off,  when  none  pursues  ! 

Displayed  moreo'er  the  adamantine  pavement 
How  unto  his  own  mother  made  Alcmaeon  l 
Costly  appear  the  luckless  ornament ; 

Displayed  how  his  own  sons  did  throw  themselves 
Upon  Sennacherib  within  the  temple, 
And  how,  he  being  dead,  they  left  him  there; 

Displayed  the  ruin  and  the  cruel  carnage 

That  Tomyris  wrought,  when  she  to  Cyrus  said, 

«  Blood  didst  thou  thirst  for,  and  with  blood  I  glut  thee  ! ' 

Displayed  how  routed  fled  the  Assyrians 
After  that  Holofernes  had  been  slain, 
And  likewise  the  remainder  of  that  slaughter. 

1  '  Amphiaraiis  the  soothsayer,  foreseeing  his  own  death  if  he  went 
to  the  Theban  war,  concealed  himself  to  avoid  going.  His  wife  Eri- 
phyle,  bribed  by  a  "  golden  necklace  set  with  diamonds,"  betrayed  to 
her  brother  Adrastus  his  hiding-place  ;  and  Amphiaraiis,  departing, 
charged  his  son  Alcmaeon  to  kill  Eriphyle  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  his 
death.' 


The  first  P  effaced.  151 

I  saw  there  Troy  in  ashes  and  in  caverns  ; 

O  Ilion  !  thee,  how  abject  and  debased. 

Displayed  the  image  that  is  there  discerned  ! 
Who  e'er  of  pencil  master  was  or  stile, 

That  could  portray  the  shades  and  traits  which  there 

Would  cause  each  subtile  genius  to  admire  ? 
Dead  seemed  the  dead,  the  living  seemed  alive ; 

Better  than  I  saw" not  who  saw  the  truth, 

All  that  I  trod  upon  while  bowed  I  went. 
Now  wax  ye  proud,  and  on  with  looks  uplifted, 

Ye  sons  of  Eve,  and  bow  not  down  your  faces 

So  that  ye  may  behold  your  evil  ways ! 

xii.  1-72. 

The  way  thus  beguiled  brought  Dante  all  unconscious  to 
the  noontide  hour,  and  to  the  point  where  the  liberating 
Angel  awaited  him. 

Towards  us  came  the  being  beautiful 
Vested  in  white,  and  in  his  countenance 
Such  as  appears  the  tremulous  morning  star. 

xii.  88-90. 

At  the  foot  of  the  steep  narrow  staircase  one  stroke  of 
the  Angel's  wings  effaced  from  Dante's  brow  a  P ;  and  the 
blessing  was  chanted  from  the  Terrace  he  was  leaving 
behind. 

Ah  me  !  how  different  are  these  entrances 
From  the  Infernal !  for  with  anthems  here 
One  enters,  and  below  with  wild  laments. 

We  now  were  mounting  up  the  sacred  stairs, 
And  it  appeared  to  me  by  far  more  easy 
Than  on  the  plain  it  had  appeared  before. 

Whence  I :  '  My  Master,  say,  what  heavy  thing 
Has  been  uplifted  from  me,  so  that  hardly 


152         The  Penitents  for  Envy  :  Safia, 

Aught  of  fatigue  is  felt  by  me  in  walking  ? ' 
He  answered  :  '  When  the  P's  which  have  remained 

Still  on  thy  face  almost  obliterate 

Shall  wholly,  as  the  first  is,  be  erased, 
Thy  feet  will  be  so  vanquished  by  good  will, 

That  not  alone  they  shall  not  feel  fatigue, 

But  urging  up  will  be  to  them  delight.' 

xii.  112-126. 

The  cancelling  of  this  first  P  so  greatly  deadened  all  the 
rest]  because  Pride  lies  at  the  root  of  all  other  sins  J  with- 
out it  they  would  have  little  virulence,  nay  often  no  exist- 
ence. And  even  were  this  not  so,  a  sinner  free  from  Pride 
would  place  no  bar  in  the  way  of  correction. 

The  Second  Terrace  reached,  in  default  of  any  other 
guide  Virgil  besought  direction  of  the  Sun,  the  type  of 
Reason ;  then  as  always  in  Purgatory  turned  to  the  right. 
A  mile's  walk  brought  the  Travellers  to  the  point  where 
aerial  voices  in  rapid  succession  were  proclaiming  examples 
of  Brotherly  Love,  the  first  being  the  Blessed  Virgin's 
words,  '  They  have  no  wine ; '  and  directly  afterwards  their 
keen  gaze  detected  the  penitents  for  Envy,  whose  garment 
rendered  it  somewhat  difficult  to  distinguish  them  from  the 
wall.  Great  was  Dante's  compassion  at  the  sight  of  their 
pain  and  blindness,  and  delicacy  of  feeling  made  him 
anxious  to  give  testimony  of  his  presence  by  speech. 
Leave  duly  obtained,  he  conversed  awhile  with  Sapia,  a 
lady  of  Siena,  who  being  banished  thence  had  lived  at 
Colle,  and  when  past  her  thirty-fifth  year  had  through  envy 
first  prayed  for  and  then  in  most  irreverent  words  rejoiced 
over  the  defeat  there  inflicted  by  the  Florentines  on  her 
fellow-citizens  under  Provenzan  Salvani.  She  concluded  : 


G^ddo  del  Duca,  Rinieri  da  Calboli.     153 

'  Peace  I  desired  with  God  at  the  extreme 
Of  my  existence,  and  as  yet  would  not 
My  debt  have  been  by  penitence  discharged, 

Had  it  not  been  that  in  remembrance  held  me 
Pier  Pettignano 1  in  his  holy  prayers, 
Who  out  of  charity  was  grieved  for  me. 

But  who  art  thou,  that  into  our  conditions 

Questioning  goest,  and  hast  thine  eyes  unbound 
As  I  believe,  and  breathing  dost  discourse  ?  ' 

'  Mine  eyes,'  I  said,  '  will  yet  be  here  ta'en  from  me, 
But  for  short  space ;  for  small  is  the  offence 
Committed  by  their  being  turned  with  envy. 

Far  greater  is  the  fear,  wherein  suspended 
My  soul  is,  of  the  torment  underneath, 
For  even  now  the  load  down  there  weighs  on  me.' 

And  she  to  me  :  '  Who  led  thee,  then,  among  us 
Up  here,  if  to  return  below  thou  thinkest  ? ' 
And  I :  *  He  who  is  with  me,  and  speaks  not  ; 

And  living  am  I  ;  therefore  ask  of  me, 
Spirit  elect,  if  thou  wouldst  have  me  move 
O'er  yonder  yet  my  mortal  feet  for  thee.' 

1 0,  this  is  such  a  novel  thing  to  hear,' 
She  answered,  '  that  great  sign  it  is  God  loves  thee ; 
Therefore  with  prayer  of  thine  sometimes  assist  me. 

And  I  implore,  by  what  thou  most  desirest, 
If  e'er  thou  treadest  the  soil  of  Tuscany, 
Well  with  my  kindred  reinstate  my  fame.' 

xin.  124-150. 

Two  other  Shades,  Guido  del  Duca  and  Rinieri  da 
Calboli,  then  took  up  the  discourse,  like  Sapia  gladly 
acknowledging  the  special  grace  bestowed  on  Dante ;  and 
farther  exercising  charity  by  grief  for  the  vices  of  their  native 

1  A  hermit  of  Siena. 


154  The  second  P  effaced. 

Romagna  and  of  the  Vale  of  Arno,  till  at  last  Guido,  desir- 
ing leisure  to  weep  over  the  pictures  he  himself  had  drawn, 
dismissed  his  listener. 

We  were  aware  that  those  beloved  Souls 

Heard  us  depart ;  therefore,  by  keeping  silent, 
They  made  us  of  our  pathway  confident. 

xiv.  127-129. 

The  thunder-voices  that  condemn  the  Envious  soon  made 
themselves  heard,  Virgil  thus  commenting  upon  them  : 

*  That  was  the  hard  curb 
That  ought  to  hold  a  man  within  his  bounds  ;        N 

But  you  take  in  the  bait  so  that  the  hook 
Of  the  old  Adversary  draws  you  to  him, 
And  hence  availeth  little  curb  or  call. 

The  heavens  are  calling  you,  and  wheel  around  you, 
Displaying  to  you  their  eternal  beauties, 
And  still  your  eye  is  looking  on  the  ground  ; 

Whence  He,  who  all  discerns,  chastises  you.' 

xiv.  143-151- 

Then  a  dazzling  brightness  told  of  the  Angel's  presence ; 
the  second  P  was  effaced,  the  Blessing  sung,  the  staircase 
benignly  pointed  out  and  pronounced  easier  than  had  yet 
been  the  case  :  and  the  third  ascent  began,  made  profitable 
by  a  dialogue  on  Envy.  Guido  in  his  mournful  discourse 
had  thus  apostrophized  mankind  : 

O  human  race  !  why  dost  thou  set  thy  heart 
Where  interdict  of  partnership  must  be  ? 

xiv.  86,  87. 

And  the  disciple,  doubting  of  his  meaning,  now  thus 
questioned  the  Master : 


Virgil  treats  of  Envy  and  Charity.       155 

'What  did  the  Spirit  of  Romagna  mean, 
Mentioning  interdict  and  partnership  ?  ' 

Whence  he  to  me  :  *  Of  his  own  greatest  failing 
He  knows  the  harm  ;  and  therefore  wonder  not 
If  he  reprove  us,  that  we  less  may  rue  it. 

Because  are  thither  pointed  your  desires 

Where  by  companionship  each  share  is  lessened, 
Envy  doth  ply  the  bellows  to  your  sighs. 

But  if  the  love  of  the  supernal  sphere 
Should  upwardly  direct  your  aspiration, 
There  would  not  be  that  fear  within  your  breast ; 

For  there,  as  much  the  more  as  one  says  Our, 
So  much  the  more  of  good  each  one  possesses, 
And  more  of  charity  in  that  cloister  burns.' 

*  I  am  more  hungering  to  be  satisfied,' 
I  said,  '  than  if  I  had  before  been  silent, 
And  more  of  doubt  within  my  mind  I  gather. 

How  can  it  be,  that  boon  distributed 

The  more  possessors  can  more  wealthy  make 
Therein,  than  if  by  few  it  be  possessed  ? ' 

And  he  to  me  :  *  Because  thou  fixest  still 
Thy  mind  entirely  upon  earthly  things, 
Thou  pluckest  darkness  from  the  very  light. 

That  Goodness  Infinite  and  Ineffable 
Which  is  above  there,  runneth  unto  love, 
As  to  a  lucid  body  comes  the  sunbeam. 

So  much  It  gives  Itself  as  It  finds  ardor, 
So  that  as  far  as  charity  extends, 
O'er  it  increases  the  eternal  Valor. 

And  the  more  people  thitherward  aspire, 

More  are  there  to  love  well,  and  more  they  love  there, 
And,  as  a  mirror,  one  reflects  the  other.1 

1  Because  thy  thought  still  recurs  to  earthly  goods  alone,  thou  de- 
rivest  darkness  from  the  light  of  my  instruction.     But  God,  the  Infinite 


156     Examples  of  Meekness  seen  in  ecstasy. 

And  if  my  reasoning  appease  thee  not, 
Thou  shalt  see  Beatrice  ;  and  she  will  fully 
Take  from  thee  this  and  every  other  longing. 

Endeavor,  then,  that  soon  may  be  extinct, 
As  are  the  two  already,  the  five  wounds 
That  close  themselves  again  by  being  painful.' 

Even  as  I  wished  to  say,  '  Thou  dost  appease  me,' 
I  saw  that  I  had  reached  another  circle, 
So  that  my  eager  eyes  made  me  keep  silence. 

There  it  appeared  to  me  that  in  a  vision 
Ecstatic  on  a  sudden  I  was  rapt, 
And  in  a  temple  many  persons  saw  ; 

And  at  the  door  a  woman,  with  the  sweet 
Behavior  of  a  mother,  saying  :  '  Son, 
Why  in  this  manner  hast  Thou  dealt  with  us  ? 

Lo,  sorrowing,  Thy  father  and  myself 
Were  seeking  for  Thee  ; '  —  and  as  here  she  ceased, 
That  which  appeared  at  first  had  disappeared. 

xv.  44-93. 

Other  examples  of  Meekness  followed,  presented  like 
this  in  inward  vision,  such  being  the  mode  of  Terrace  III. ; 
and  Virgil's  comment  was, 

What  thou  hast  seen  was  that  thou  mayst  not  fail 
To  ope  thy  heart  unto  the  waters  of  peace, 
Which  from  the  eternal  fountain  are  diffused. 

xv.  130-132. 

and  Ineffable  Good  dwelling  on  high,  is  attracted  by  the  love  of  the 
Blessed,  even  as  a  ray  by  a  light-reflecting  body.  He  gives  Himself 
the  more,  the  more  love  He  finds  ;  so  that  the  farther  charity  extends, 
the  wider  the  Eternal  Beatific  Virtue  spreads  above  it.  And  the  more 
people  are  intent  on  that  Supreme  Vision,  the  more  is  present  of  that 
same  Beatific  Virtue,  and  the  more  love  is  there ;  and  as  light  is  reflected 
from  mirror  to  mirror,  so  love  from  blessed  Soul  to  Soul. 


The  chastisement  of  Anger.  1 5  7 

It  is  noticeable  that  in  this  and  in  the  Seventh  Terrace, 
but  not  in  any  other,  Dante  shared  the  torment  of  the  peni- 
tents ;  in  these  alone  is  it  of  a  nature  to  affect  every  one 
locally  present  within  its  range.  —  He  proceeds  : 

We  passed  along,  athwart  the  twilight  peering 
Forward  as  far  as  ever  eye  could  stretch 
Against  the  sunbeams  serotine  and  lucent ; 

And  lo  !  by  slow  degrees  a  smoke  approached 
In  our  direction,  sombre  as  the  night, 
Nor  was  there  place  to  hide  one's  self  therefrom. 

This  of  our  eyes  and  the  pure  air  bereft  us. 

Darkness  of  Hell,  and  of  a  night  deprived 
Of  every  planet  under  a  poor  sky, 
As  much  as  may  be  tenebrous  with  cloud, 

Ne'er  made  unto  my  sight  so  thick  a  veil, 
As  did  that  smoke  which  there  enveloped  us, 
Nor  to  the  feeling  of  so  rough  a  texture ; 

For  not  an  eye  it  suffered  to  stay  open  ; 
Whereat  mine  escort,  faithful  and  sagacious, 
Drew  near  to  me  and  offered  me  his  shoulder. 

E'en  as  a  blind  man  goes  behind  his  guide, 

Lest  he  should  wander,  or  should  strike  against 
Aught  that  may  harm  or  peradventure  kill  him, 

So  went  I  through  the  bitter  and  foul  air, 
Listening  unto  my  Leader,  who  said  only, 
'  Look  that  from  me  thou  be  not  separated.' 

xv.  139-145.    xvi.  1-15. 

This  blind  leaning  on  the  Guide  is  a  parable  of  the  only 
safe  rule  during  a  temptation  to  Anger  —  to  hold  fast  to 
known,  acknowledged,  established  principles,  seen  to  be 
right  before  the  temptation  began :  Anger  having  the  pro- 
perty of  annulling  for  the  time  all  true  perception. 


158    The  Pen  it  en  ts  for  A  nger.  Marco  Lorn  bar  do 

Voices  I  heard,  and  every  one  appeared 
To  supplicate  for  peace  and  misericord 
The  Lamb  of  God  Who  takes  away  our  sins. 

Still  '  Agnus  Dei"1  their  exordium  was; 
One  word  there  was  in  all,  and  metre  one, 
So  that  all  harmony  appeared  among  them. 

'  Master,'  I  said,  « are  Spirits  those  I  hear  ?  ' 
And  he  to,me  :  *  Thou  apprehendest  truly, 
And  they  the  knot  of  anger  go  unloosing.' 

xvi.  16-24. 

A  voice  here  commenced  a  conversation  with  Dante,  the 
speaker,  who  named  himself  Marco_Lombardo,  reflecting  on 
the^utter  corruption  of  the  world  :  and  as  his  interlocutor, 
fully  assenting  to  this  as  a  fact,  requested  to  be  certified 
whether  its  cause  lay  in  the  influences  of  the  Heavens  or  in 
the  wills  of  men  — 

A  sigh  profound,  that  grief  forced  into  Ai ! 

He  first  sent  forth,  and  then  began  he  :  '  Brother, 
The  world  is  blind,  and  sooth  thou  comest  from  it ! 

Ye  who  are  living  every  cause  refer 

Still  upward  to  the  Heavens,  as  if  all  things 
They  of  necessity  moved  with  themselves. 

If  this  were  so,  in  you  would  be  destroyed 
Free  will,  nor  any  justice  would  there  be 
In  having  joy  for  good,  or  grief  for  evil. 

The  Heavens  your  movements  do  initiate, 
I  say  not  all ;  but  granting  that  I  say  it, 
Light  has  been  given  you  for  good  and  evil, 

And  free  volition  ;  which,  if  some  fatigue 

In  the  first  battles  with  the  Heavens  it  suffers, 
Afterwards  conquers  all,  if  well 't  is  nurtured. 

To  greater  force  and  to  a  better  nature, 

Though  free,  ye  subject  are,  and  that  creates 


treats  of  Free  Will  and  of  Government.     1 59 

The  mind  in  you  the  Heavens  have  not  in  charge.1 
Hence,  if  the  present  world  doth  go  astray, 

In  you  the  cause  is,  be  it  sought  in  you ; 

And  I  therein  will  now  be  thy  true  spy. 
Forth  from  the  hand  of  Him,  Who  fondles  it 

Before  it  is,  like  to  a  little  girl 

Weeping  and  laughing  in  her  childish  sport, 
Issues  the  simple  soul,  that  nothing  knows, 

Save  that,  proceeding  from  a  joyous  Maker, 

Gladly  it  turns  to  that  which  gives  it  pleasure. 
Of  trivial  good  at  first  it  tastes  the  savor  ; 

Is  cheated  by  it,  and  runs  after  it, 

If  guide  or  rein  turn  not  aside  its  love. 
Hence  it  behooved  laws  for  a  rein  to  place, 

Behooved  a  king  2  to  have,  who  at  the  least 

Of  the  true  city  should  discern  the  tower. 
The  laws  exist,  but  who  sets  hand  to  them  ? 

No  one;  because  the  shepherd  who  precedes 

Can  ruminate,  but  cleaveth  not  the  hoof;8 
Wherefore  the  people  that  perceives  its  guide 

Strike  only  at  the  good  for  which  it  hankers, 

Feeds  upon  that,  and  farther  seeketh  not. 
Clearly  canst  thou  perceive  that  evil  guidance 

The  cause  is  that  has  made  the  world  depraved, 

And  not  that  nature  is  corrupt  in  you.' 

xvi.  64-105. 

1  See  p.  14.     The  preceding  triplet  may  be  thus  paraphrased :  To 
greater  strength  than  that  of  the  Heavens,  even  to  God's  Omnipotence, 
and  to  a  better  nature,  even  to  God's  Goodness,  ye  retaining  free-will 
are  subject ;  and  That  it  is  Which  creates  in  you  the  mind  which  the 
Heavens  have  not  in  their  power. 

2  The  Emperor. 

8  Dante  seems  partly  to  apply  the  prohibition  to  eat  beasts  that  cleave 
not  the  hoof,  in  condemnation  of  the  worldliness  practically  tainting 
the  Church  of  his  day. 


1 60      The  third  P  effaced.      Virgil  shows 

Soon  after  this  the  discourse  was  broken  off  by  the 
speakers  reaching  the  skirts  of  the  smoke-fog,  beyond 
which  Marco  might  not  go;  but  Dante  passed  into  the 
fading  sun-light.  The  trance  wherein  he  now  beheld  in- 
stances of  Anger  was  suddenly  dispelled  by  the  radiance 
of  the  Angel,  the  preface  to  confirmed  cleanness,  freedom 
and  blessedness.  Lightened  of  the  third  P,  under  the  rising 
stars  he  had  just  time  to  complete  his  fourth  ascent  ere 
darkness  suspended  his  power  to  move  upwards,  and  af- 
forded Virgil  opportunity  to  lay  down  that  theory  of  the  seven 
Capital  Sins  which  was  in  its  essential  points  set  forth  in 
the  preceding  chapter ; *  and  which  follows  here  in  full. 

'  Neither  Creator  nor  a  creature  ever, 

Son,'  he  began,  '  was  destitute  of  love 

Natural  or  spiritual ;  and  thou  knowest  it. 
The  natural  was  ever  without  error ;  2 

But  err  the  other  may  by  evil  object, 

Or  by  too  much,  or  by  too  little  vigor. 
While  in  the  first  it  well  directed  is, 

And  in  the  second  moderates  itself, 

It  cannot  be  the  cause  of  sinful  pleasure  ; 
But  when  to  ill  it  turns,  and,  with  more  care 

Or  lesser  than  it  ought,  runs  after  good, 

'Gainst  the  Creator  works  His  own  creation. 
Hence  thou  mayst  comprehend  that  love  must  be 

The  seed  within  yourselves  of  every  virtue, 

And  every  act  that  merits  punishment. 
Now  inasmuch  as  never  from  the  welfare 

Of  its  own  subject  3  can  love  turn  its  sight, 

1  See  pp.  113,  114. 

2  The  '  natural  love  '  is  the  appetite  for  things  needful  for  the  pre- 
servation and  well-being  of  the  body. 

3  The  '  subject  of  love  '  is  the  person  feeling  it. 


»1  -    "  •»   *  t 

how  Love  may  be  the  seed  o^§in.        1 6*  ^ 

From  their  own  hatred  all  things  are  secure  ; 
And  since  we  cannot  think  of  any  being 

Standing  alone,  nor  from  the  First  divided, 

Of  hating  Him  is  all  desire  cut  off. 
Hence  if,  discriminating,  I  judge  well, 

The  evil  that  one  loves  is  of  one's  neighbor, 

And  this  is  born  in  three  modes  in  your  clay. 
There  are,  who,  by  abasement  of  their  neighbor, 

Hope  to  excel,  and  therefore  only  long 

That  from  his  greatness  he  may  be  cast  down ; 
There  are,  who  power,  grace,  honor,  and  renown 

Fear  they  may  lose  because  another  rises, 

Thence  are  so  sad  that  the  reverse  they  love  ; 
And  there  are  those  whom  injury  seems  to  chafe, 

So  that  it  makes  them  greedy  for  revenge, 

And  such  must  needs  shape  out  another's  harm. 
This  threefold  love  is  wept  for 'down  below  ; 

Now  of  the  other  will  I  have  thee  hear, 

That  runneth  after  good  with  measure  faulty. 
Each  one  confusedly  a  good  conceives 

Wherein  the  mind  may  rest,  and  longeth  for  it ; 

Therefore  to  overtake  it  each  one  strives. 
If  languid  love  to  look  on  this  attract  you, 

Or  in  attaining  unto  it,  this  cornice, 

After  just  penitence,  torments  you  for  it. 
There  's  other  good  that  does  not  make  man  happy  ; 

'Tis  not  felicity,  'tis  not  the  good 

Essence,  of  every  good  the  fruit  and  root. 
The  love  that  yields  itself  too  much  to  this 

Above  us  is  lamented  in  three  circles  ; 

But  how  tripartite  it  may  be  described, 
I  say  not,  that  thou  seek  it  for  thyself.' 

xvn.  91-139. 

ii 


1 62      The  Penitents  for  Sloth.  —  The  Siren. 

Two  more  dissertations  —  on  the  nature  of  Love,  and  on 
Free  Will  —  had  brought  midnight' near,  when  the  drowsi- 
ness just  creeping  over  Dante  was  forcibly  dispelled  by  a 
rush  of  Shades  coursing  along  as  if  ridden  by  good-will  and 
just  love.  '  Mary  ran  with  haste  to  the  mountain/  was  the 
watch-shout  of  Diligence  in  the  van :  — '  Quick,  quick,  let 
no  time  be  lost  for  want  of  love,  let  energy  in  well-doing 
freshen  grace,'  was  the  multitudinous  spur-cry  of  the  mass  : 
— '  Come  on  with  us,  and  you  will  find  the  aperture  —  our 
craving  for  motion  is  such  that  we  cannot  stop  —  pardon  if 
our  righteousness  seem  discourtesy,'  was  the  hurried  direc- 
tion to  the  Pilgrims  :  —  then  fewest  words  announced  the 
speaker  Abbot  of  San  Zeno  in  Verona,  assigned  his  date, 
reprobated  the  sins  of  the  actual  intruded  Abbot  and  of 
the  intruder — and  carried  him  quite  out  of  hearing  :  — while 
already  the  Sloth  of  the  Israelites  who  died  in  the  wilder- 
ness was  being  vituperated  in  the  rear. 

Dante  slept  at  length;  and  in  the  hour  preceding  the 
sunrise  of  Easter  Tuesday  dreamed  once  more  —  dreamed 
of  a  woman  stammering,  squinting,  lame  of  foot,  maimed  of 
hands,  and  ashy  pale.  He  gazed  on  her,  and  lo  under  his 
gaze  her  form  straightened,  her  face  flushed,  her  tongue 
loosened  to  the  Siren's  song.  But  a  holy  Lady  —  probably 
Lucia  or  Illuminating  Grace  —  arose  swift  to  confound  her, 
calling  on  Virgil ;  and  anon  the  Siren  was  laid  open,  the 
spell  broken,  the  dreamer  awake.  Then  after  the  fourth 
benediction  and  erasure,  the  fifth  ascent  began ;  and  the 
disciple,  yet  brooding  over  the  vision  which  had  embodied 
to  his  senses  the  Worldly  and  Fleshly  sins  whereof  he  was 
about  to  witness  the  expiation,  was  thus  admonished  by  the 
Master : 


The  Penitents  for  Avarice :  Pope  Adrian  V.  1 63 

4  Didst  thou  behold,'  he  said,  'that  old  enchantress, 
Who  sole  above  us  henceforth  is  lamented  ? 
Didst  thou  behold  how  man  is  freed  from  her? 

Suffice  it  thee,  and  smite  earth  with  thy  heels, 
Thine  eyes  lift  upward  to  the  lure,  that  whirls  l 
The  Eternal  King  with  revolutions  vast.' 

xix.  58-63. 

Soon  both  Travellers  stood  on  the  Fifth  Terrace,  amid 
the  sore  weeping  and  wailing  of  the  prostrate  Avaricious. 
The  wonted  request  for  direction  was  answered  courteously, 
but  as  if  to  another  Shade ;  and  Dante,  with  Virgil's  per- 
mission pausing  beside  the  answerer  —  Pope  Adrian  V.,  who 
had  died  A.  D.  1276,  after  forty  days'  reign  —  thus  addressed 
him  : 

*  O  Spirit,  in  whom  weeping  ripens 
That  without  which  to  God  we  cannot  turn, 
Suspend  awhile  for  me  thy  greater  care. 
Who  wast  thou,  and  why  are  your  backs  turned  upwards, 
Tell  me,  and  if  thou  wouldst  that  I  procure  thee 
Anything  there  whence  living  I  departed.' 
And  he  to  me  :  '  Wherefore  our  backs  the  Heaven 
Turns  to  itself,  know  shalt  thou  ;  but  beforehand 
Scias  quod  egofui  successor  Petri. 
Between  Siestri  and  Chiaveri  descends 
A  river  beautiful,  and  of  its  name  2 
The  title  of  my  blood  its  summit  makes. 
A  month  and  little  more  essayed  I  how 

Weighs  the  great  cloak  on  him  from  mire  who  keeps  it ; 
For  all  the  other  burdens  seem  a  feather. 

1  Lift  up  thine  eyes  to  the  Heavens,  which  are  God's  lure  to  draw 
them  upwards. 

2  The  river  Lavagna,  which  gave  the  title  of  Counts  of  Lavagna  to 
the  Fieschi  family,  whence  sprang  Pope  Adrian  V. 


164  How  Avarice  is  chastised. 

Tardy,  ah  woe  is  me  !  was  my  conversion  ; 

But  when  the  Roman  Shepherd  I  was  made, 

Then  I  discovered  life  to  be  a  lie. 
I  saw  that  there  the  heart  was  not  at  rest, 

Nor  farther  in  that  life  could  one  ascend ; 

Whereby  the  love  of  this  was  kindled  in  me. 
Until  that  time  a  wretched  soul  and  parted 

From  God  was  I,  and  wholly  avaricious  ; 

Now,  as  thou  seest,  I  here  am  punished  for  it. 
What  avarice  does  is  here  made  manifest 

In  the  purgation  of  these  souls  converted, 

And  no  more  bitter  pain  the  Mountain  has. 
Even  as  our  eye  did  not  uplift  itself 

Aloft,  being  fastened  upon  earthly  things, 

So  justice  here  has  merged  it  in  the  earth. 
As  avarice  had  extinguished  our  aifection 

For  every  good,  whereby  was  action  lost, 

So  justice  here  doth  hold  us  in  restraint, 
Bound  and  imprisoned  by  the  feet  and  hands  ; 

And  so  long  as  it  pleases  the  just  Lord 

Shall  we  remain  immovable  and  prostrate.' 
I  on  my  knees  had  fallen,  and  wished  to  speak ; 

But  even  as  I  began,  and  he  was  'ware, 

Only  by  listening,  of  my  reverence, 
*  What  cause,'  he  said,  '  has  downward  bent  thee  thus  ?  ' 

And  I  to  him  :  '  For  your  own  dignity, 

Standing,  my  conscience  stung  me  with  remorse.' 
'  Straighten  thy  legs,  and  upward  raise  thee,  brother,' 

He  answered  :  *  Err  not,  fellow-servant  am  I 

With  thee  and  with  the  others  to  one  Power. 
If  e'er  that  holy,  evangelic  sound, 

Which  sayeth  neque  nubent,  thou  hast  heard,1 

1  He  means  that  'they  neither  marry/ etc.,  indicates  the  abrogation 
in  the  next  world  of  all  earthly  relations. 


Hugh  Capet.  165 


Well  canst  thou  see  why  in  this  wise  I  speak. 
Now  go  ;  no  longer  will  I  have  thee  linger, 

Because  thy  stay  doth  incommode  my  weeping, 

With  which  I  ripen  that  which  thou  hast  said. 
On  earth  I  have  a  grandchild  named  Alagia, 

Good  in  herself,  unless  indeed  our  house 

Malevolent  may  make  her  by  example, 
And  she  alone  remains  to  me  on  earth.' 

Ill  strives  the  will  against  a  better  will ; 
Therefore,  to  pleasure  him,  against  my  pleasure 
I  drew  the  sponge  not  saturate  from  the  water. 

Onward  I  moved,  and  onward  moved  my  Leader, 
Through  vacant  places,  skirting  still  the  rock, 
As  on  a  wall  close  to  the  battlements  ; 

For  they  that  through  their  eyes  pour  drop  by  drop 
The  malady  which  all  the  world  pervades, 
On  the  other  side  too  near  the  verge  approach. 

xix.  91-145.     xx.  1-9. 

An  invocation  of  Blessed  Mary  reduced  to  the  Stable  of 
Bethlehem,  followed  by  the  citation  of  other  examples  of 
Poverty  and  Liberality,  caught  Dante's  ear  as  he  slowly 
made  his  way  along;  and  the  proclaimer,  having  gratified 
his  curiosity  by  naming  himself  Hugh  Capet,  forefather  of 
the  royal  line  of  France,  and  confirmed  his  judgment  by 
heaviest  condemnation  of  the  later  princes  of  that  line, 
concluded  by  informing  him  of  one  point  whereof  he  would 
have  no  other  testimony  —  that  the  abhorrent  recalling  of 
jnqi-an^es  of  Avarice  is  in  this  Circuit  the  occupation  of  the 
night. 

From  him  already  we  departed  were, 
And  made  endeavor  to  overcome  the  road 
As  much  as  was  permitted  to  our  power, 


1 66  The  earthquake  and  the  hymn. 

When  I  perceived,  like  something  that  is  falling, 
The  mountain  tremble,  whence  a  chill  seized  on  me, 
As  seizes  him  who  to  his  death  is  going. 

Certes  so  violently  shook  not  Delos, 
Before  Latona  made  her  nest  therein 
To  give  birth  to  the  two  eyes  of  the  heaven. 

Then  upon  all  sides  there  began  a  cry, 

Such  that  the  Master  drew  himself  towards  me, 
Saying,  « Fear  not,  while  I  am  guiding  thee.' 

*  Gloria  in  excelsis  Deo]  all 
Were  saying,  from  what  near  I  comprehended, 
Where  it  was  possible  to  hear  the  cry. 

We  paused  immovable  and  in  suspense, 

Even  as  the  shepherds  who  first  heard  that  song, 
Until  the  trembling  ceased,  and  it  was  finished. 

Then  we  resumed  again  our  holy  path, 

Watching  the  Shades  that  lay  upon  the  ground, 
Already  turned  to  their  accustomed  plaint. 

No  ignorance  ever  with  so  great  a  strife 
Had  rendered  me  importunate  to  know, 
If  erreth  not  in  this  my  memory, 

As  meditating  then  I  seemed  to  have  ; 
Nor  out  of  haste  to  question  did  I  dare, 
Nor  of  myself  I  there  could  aught  perceive  ; 

So  I  went  onward  timorous  and  thoughtful. 

The  natural  thirst,  that  ne'er  is  satisfied 
Excepting  with  the  water  for  whose  grace 
The  woman  of  Samaria  besought, 

Put  me  in  travail,  and  haste  goaded  me 

Along  the  encumbered  path  behind  my  Leader, 
And  I  was  pitying  that  righteous  vengeance  ; 

And  lo  !  in  the  same  manner  as  Luke  writeth 
That  Christ  appeared  to  two  upon  the  way 


The  released  Shade.  167 

From  the  sepulchral  cave  already  risen, 
A  Shade  appeared  to  us,  and  came  behind  us, 

Down  gazing  on  the  prostrate  multitude, 

Nor  were  we  ware  of  it  until  it  spake, 
Saying,  '  My  brothers,  may  God  give  you  peace ! ' 

We  turned  us  suddenly,  and  Virgilius  rendered 

To  him  the  countersign  thereto  conforming. 
Thereon  began  he  :  'In  the  blessed  council, 

Thee  may  the  court  veracious  place  in  peace, 

That  me  doth  banish  in  eternal  exile  ! ' 
'  How,'  said  he,  and  the  while  we  went  with  speed, 

4  If  ye  are  Shades  whom  God  deigns  not  on  high, 

Who  up  His  stairs  so  far  has  guided  you  ? ' 
And  said  my  Teacher:  'If  thou  note  the  marks 

Which  this  one  bears,  and  which  the  Angel  traces, 

Well  shalt  thou  see  he  with  the  good  must  reign.' 

xx.  124-151.     xxi.  1-24. 

These  words,  seeming  to  speak  of  the  P's  as  a  token 
familiar  to  the  inquirer,  constitute,  so  far  as  I  know,  the 
only  evidence  that  the  penitent  Shades  may,  in  common 
with  Dante,  receive  these  marks.  Virgil  went  on  : 

*  But  because  she  who  spinneth  day  and  night 
For  him  had  not  yet  drawn  the  distaff  off, 
Which  Clotho  lays  for  each  one  and  compacts, 

His  soul,  which  is  thy  sister  and  my  own, 
In  coming  upwards  could  not  come  alone, 
By  reason  that  it  sees  not  in  our  fashion. 

Whence  I  was  drawn  from  out  the  ample  throat 
Of  Hell  to  be  his  guide,  and  I  shall  guide  him 
As  far  on  as  my  school  has  power  to  lead. 

But  tell  us,  if  thou  knowest,  why  such  a  shudder 
Erewhile  the  mountain  gave,  and  why  together 
All  seemed  to  cry,  as  far  as  its  moist  feet  ? ' 


1 68  The  religion  of  the  Mountain. 


In  asking  he  so  hit  the  very  eye 
Of  my  desire,  that  merely  with  the  hope 
My  thirst  became  the  less  unsatisfied. 

4  Naught  is  there,'  he  began,  *  that  without  order 
May  the  religion  of  the  mountain  feel, 
Nor  aught  that  may  be  foreign  to  its  custom. 

Free  is  it  here  from  every  permutation  ; 
What  from  itself  heaven  in  itself  receiveth 
Can  be  of  this  the  cause,  and  naught  beside  ; 

Because  that  neither  rain,  nor  hail,  nor  snow, 
Nor  dew,  nor  hoar-frost  any  higher  falls 
Than  the  short,  little  stairway  of^three  steps. 

Dense  clouds  do  not  appear,  nor  rarefied, 

Nor  coruscation,  nor  the  daughter J  of  Thaumas, 
That  often  upon  earth  her  region  shifts  ; 

No  arid  vapor  any  farther  rises 
Than  to  the  top  of  the  three  steps  I  spake  of, 
Whereon  the  Vicar  of  Peter  has  his  feet. 

Lower  down  perchance  it  trembles  less  or  more, 
But,  for  the  wind  that  in  the  earth  is  hidden 
I  know  not  how,  up  here  it  never  tremblej. 

It  trembles  here,  whenever  any  Soul 

Feels  itself  pure,  so  that  it  soars,  or  uioves 
To  mount  aloft,  and  such  a  cry  attends  it. 

Of  purity  the  will  alone  gives  proof, 

Which,  being  wholly  free  to  change  its  convent, 
Takes  by  surprise  the  Soul,  and  helps  it  fly. 

First  it  wills  well ;  but  the  desire  permits  not, 
Which  Divine  Justice  with  the  self-same  will 
There  was  to  sin,  upon  the  torment  sets. 

And  I,  who  have  been  lyijng^in-this^pajn 

Five  hundred  years  and  more,  but  just  now  fe-lt 
A  free  volition  for  a  better  seat. 

1  Iris  :  the  rainbow. 


The  released  Shade  is  Papinius  Statins.     1 69 

Therefore  thou  heardst  the  earthquake,  and  the  pious 
Spirits  along  the  mountain  rendering  praise 
Unto  the  Lord,  that  soon  He  speed  them  upwards.' 

So  said  he  to  him  ;  and  since  we  enjoy 
As  much  in  drinking  as  the  thirst  is  great, 
I  could  not  say  how  much  it  did  me  good. 

And  the  wise  Leader :  *  Now  I  see  the  net 
That  snares  you  here,  and  how  ye  are  set  free, 
Why  the  earth  quakes,  and  wherefore  ye  rejoice. 

Now  who  thou  wast  be  pleased  that  I  may  know ; 
And  why  so  many  centuries  thou  hast  here 
Been  lying,  let  me  gather  from  thy  words.' 

xxi.  25-81. 

The  released  Shade  replied  that  he  was  the  Latin  poet 
Papinius  Statius,  author  of  the  Sylvse,  the  Thebaid  and  the 
Achilleid,  the  latter  work  being,  however,  cut  short  by  his 
premature  death  about  A.  D.  96.  He  continued  : 

*  The  seeds  unto  my  ardor  were  the  sparks 
Of  that  celestial  flame  which  heated  me, 
Whereby  more  than  a  thousand  have  been  fired  ; 

Of  the  ^Eneid  speak  I,  which  to  me 

A  mother  was,  and  was  my  nurse  in  song  ; 
Without  this  weighed  I  not  a  drachma's  weight. 

And  to  have  lived  upon  the  earth  what  time 
Virgilius  lived,  I  would  accept  one  sun 
More  than  I  must  ere  issuing  from  my  ban.' 

These  words  towards  me  made  Virgilius  turn 

With  looks  that  in  their  silence  said,  «  Be  silent  ! ' 
But  yet  the  power  that  wills  cannot  do  all  things ; 

For  tears  and  laughter  are  such  pursuivants 

Unto  the  passion  from  which  each  springs  forth, 
In  the  most  truthful  least  the  will  they  follow. 

I  only  smiled,  as  one  who  gives  the  wink ; 


1 70          Virgil  made  known  to  Statiiis. 

Whereat  the  Shade  was  silent,  and  it  gazed 

Into  mine  eyes,  where  most  expression  dwells ; 
And,  '  As  thou  well  mayst  consummate  a  labor 

So  great,'  it  said,  *  why  did  thy  face  just  now 

Display  to  me  the  lightning  of  a  smile  ?  ' 
Now  am  I  caught  on  this  side  and  on  that ; 

One  keeps  me  silent,  one  to  speak  conjures  me, 

Wherefore  I  sigh,  and  I  am  understood. 
*  Speak,'  said  my  Master,  '  and  be  not  afraid 

Of  speaking,  but  speak  out,  and  say  to  him 

What  he  demands  with  such  solicitude.' 
Whence  I  :  '  Thou  peradventure  marvellest, 

O  antique  Spirit,  at  the  smile  I  gave ; 

But  I  will  have  more  wonder  seize  upon  thee. 
This  one,  who  guides  on  high  these  eyes  of  mine, 

Is  that  Virgilius,  from  whom  thou  didst  learn 

To  sing  aloud  of  men  and  of  the  Gods. 
If  other  cause  thou  to  my  smile  imputedst, 

Abandon  it  as  false,  and  trust  it  was 

Those  words  which  thou  hast  spoken  concerning  him.' 
Already  he  was  stooping  to  embrace 

My  Teacher's  feet ;  but  he  said  to  him  :  *  Brother, 

Do  not ;  for  Shade  thou  art,  and  Shade  beholdest.' 
And  he  uprising  :  '  Now  canst  thou  the  sum 

Of  love  which  warms  me  to  thee  comprehend, 

When  this  our  vanity  I  disremember, 
Treating  a  shadow  as  substantial  thing.' 

Already  was  the  Angel  left  behind  us, 

The  Angel  who  to  the  sixth  round  had  turned  us, 

taving  erased  one  mark  from  off  my  face  ; 
And  those  who  have  in  justice  their  desire 
Had  said  to  us,  '  BeatiJ  in  their  voices, 
With,  '•sitioj  and  without  more  ended  it. 

xxi.  94-136.     xxn.  1-6. 


X"     ""^\ 

Statins  relates  his  history.  171 

Note  here  how  expressly  Dante  appropriates  to  himself 
the  cancelling  of  the  P.  If  the  Shades  receive  these  prints 
at  all,  we  must  I  think  conclude  the  erasure  to  be  in  their 
ca^se  effectejiJi^LJii^JLpu^^ 

Going  up  the  sixth  staircase,  Statius  at  Virgil's  request 
further  detailed  his  own  history.  He  had  endured  these 
five  ages  of  penance  not  for  the  love  of  money  which  con- 
stitutes Avarice,  but  for  the  love  of  money's  worth  which 
tempts  to  Prodigality;  and  which  would  have  consigned 
him  to  the  Fourth  Circle  of  Hell  had  not  Virgil's  words, 
'  To  what  dost  not  thou,  O  accursed  hunger  of  gold,  drive 
the  appetite  of  mortals?'  enlightened  and  corrected  him. 
And  to  Virgil  he  owed  yet  a  third  benefit,  a  second  and 
greater  enlightenment.  He  read  in  the  Fourth  Eclogue 
the  celebrated  quotation  of  the  Sibylline  prophecy.  'The 
last  era  of  Cumaean  song  is  now  arrived ;  the  great  series 
of  ages  begins  anew;  now  the  Virgin  returns,  returns  the 
Saturnian  reign ;  now  a  new  Progeny  is  sent  down  from  the 
high  Heaven.'1  And  reading  he  perceived  the  agreement 
of  the  words  with  the  preached  Gospel,  sought  out  its 
preachers,  believed  and  was  baptized ;  compassionated  and 
helped  his  persecuted  brethren,  yet  lacked  courage  openly 
to  profess  his  and  their  faith,  and  for  this  cowardly  Sloth 
had  to  race  round.4he  Fourth  JTerrace  above  four  hundred 
years ;  the  remaining  three  centuries  since  his  death  having 
been  passed,  as  we  must  conclude,  lower  down.  —  His  nar- 
rative ended,  he  heard  from  his  countryman  news  of  former 
friends  and  other  inhabitants  of  Limbo,  interesting  to  him 
on  account  of  their  works,  or  as  the  heroines  of  his  own 
poems.  At  last  Terrace  VI.  was  reached;  and  the  con- 

1  Longfellow's  translation. 


172  The  first  Tree  of  emptiness. 

versation  of  the  Latin  Bards  was  teaching  their  art  to  their 
Italian  follower  — 

But  soon  their  sweet  discourses  interrupted 
A  tree  which  midway  in  the  road  we  found, 
With  apples  sweet  and  grateful  to  the  smell. 

And  even  as  a  fir-tree  tapers  upward 

From  bough  to  bough,  so  downwardly  did  that ; 
I  think  in  order  that  no  one  might  climb  it. 

On  that  side  where  our  pathway  was  enclosed 
Fell  from  the  lofty  rock  a  limpid  water, 
And  spread  itself  abroad  upon  the  leaves. 

The  Poets  twain  unto  the  tree  drew  near, 
And  from  among  the  foliage  a  voice 
Cried  :  '  Of  this  food  ye  shall  have  scarcity.' 

Then  said  :  '  More  thoughtful  Mary  was  of  making 
The  marriage  feast  complete  and  honorable, 
Than  of  her  mouth  which  now  for  you  responds  ; 

And  for  their  drink  the  ancient  Roman  women 
With  water  were  content :  and  Daniel 
Disparaged  food,  and  understanding  won. 

The  primal  age  was  beautiful  as  gold  ; 
Acorns  it  made  with  hunger  savorous, 
And  nectar  every  rivulet  with  thirst. 

Honey  and  locusts  were  the  aliments 
That  fed  the  Baptist  in  the  wilderness ; 
Whence  he  is  glorious,  and  so  magnified 

As  by  the  Evangel  is  revealed  to  you.' 

The  while  among  the  verdant  leaves  mine  eyes 

I  riveted,  as  he  is  wont  to  do 

Who  wastes  his  life  pursuing  little  birds, 
My  more  than  Father  said  unto  me  :  '  Son, 

Come  now  ;  because  the  time  that  is  ordained  us 

More  usefully  should  be  apportioned  out.' 


The  Penitents  for  Gluttony.  173 

I  turned  my  face  and  no  less  soon  my  steps 
Unto  the  Sages,  who  were  speaking  so 
They  made  the  going  of  no  cost  to  me  ; 

And  lo  !  were  heard  a  song  and  a  lament, 
*  Labia  mea,  Dominel  in  fashion 
Such  that  delight  and  dolence  it  brought  forth. 

*  O  my  sweet  Father,  what  is  this  I  hear  ? ' 
Began  I  ;  and  he  answered  :  '  Shades  that  go 
Perhaps  the  knot  unloosing  of  their  debt.' 

In  the  same  way  that  thoughtful  pilgrims  do, 
Who,  unknown  people  on  the  road  o'ertaking, 
Turn  themselves  round  to  them,  and  do  not  stop, 

Even  thus,  behind  us  with  a  swifter  motion 
Coming  and  passing  onward,  gazed  upon  us 
A  crowd  of  Spirits  silent  and  devout. 

Each  in  his  eyes  was  dark  and  cavernous, 
Pallid  in  face,  and  so  emaciate 
That  from  the  bones  the  skin  did  shape  itself. 

xxn.  130-154.     xxin.  1-24. 

These  Shades  were  macerated  out  of  all  knowledge ;  but 
one  of  them,  Forese  de'  Donati,  recognizing  in  Dante  a 
friend,  a  brother-in-law,  and  —  as  will  presently  appear  by 
the  Poet's  own  words  to  him  —  a  companion  in  more  or  less 
of  evil,  was  in  turn  recognized  by  his  voice.  He  could  not 
however  obtain  information  on  any  one  subject  till  he  had 
satisfied  Dante's  strong  desire  to  know  the  cause  of  his 
wasted  condition. 

4  That  face  of  thine  which  dead  I  once  bewept, 
Gives  me  for  weeping  now  no  lesser  grief,' 
I  answered  him,  '  beholding  it  so  changed  ! 

But  tell  me,  for  God's  sake,  what  thus  denudes  you  ? 
Make  me  not  speak  while  I  am  marvelling, 


1 74  Forese  de  Donati  converses 

For  ill  speaks  he  who  's  full  of  other  longings.' 

And  he  to  me  :  *  From  the  eternal  counsel 
Falls  power  into  the  water  and  the  tree 
Behind  us  left,  whereby  I  grow  so  thin. 

All  of  this  people  who  lamenting  sing, 
For  following  beyond  measure  appetite 
In  hunger  and  thirst  are  here  re-sanctified. 

Desire  to  eat  and  drink  enkindles  in  us 
The  scent  that  issues  from  the  apple-tree, 
And  from  the  spray  that  sprinkles  o'er  the  verdure  ; 

And  not  a  single  time  alone,  this  ground 
Encircling,  is  renewed  our  pain, — 
I  say  our  pain,  and  ought  to  say  our  solace,  — 

For  the  same  wish  doth  lead  us  to  the  tree 
Which  led  the  Christ  rejoicing  to  say  Eli, 
When  with  His  veins  He  liberated  us.' 

And  I  to  him  :  '  Forese,  from  that  day 

When  for  a  better  life  thou  changedst  worlds, 
Up  to  this  time  five  years  have  not  rolled  round. 

If  sooner  were  the  power  exhausted  in  thee 
Of  sinning  more,  than  thee  the  hour  surprised 
Of  that  good  sorrow  which  to  God  re  weds  us, 

How  hast  thou  come  up  hitherward  already  ? 
I  thought  to  find  thee  down  there  underneath, 
Where  time  for  time  doth  restitution  make.' 

And  he  to  me  :  '  Thus  speedily  has  led  me 

To  drink  of  the  sweet  wormwood  of  these  torments, 
My  Nella  with  her  overflowing  tears ; 

She  with  her  prayers  devout  and  with  her  sighs 
Has  drawn  me  from  the  coast  where  one  awaits, 
And  from  the  other  circles  set  me  free. 

So  much  more  dear  and  pleasing  is  to  God 
My  little  widow,  whom  so  much  I  loved, 
As  in  good  works  she  is  the  more  alone  ; 


with  Dante  on  various  matters.         175 

For  the  Barbagia  of  Sardinia  l 

By  far  more  modest  in  its  women  is 

Than  the  Barbagia  I  have  left  her  in. 
O  brother  sweet,  what  wilt  thou  have  me  say  ? 

A  future  time  is  in  my  sight  already, 

To  which  this  hour  will  not  be  very  old, 
When  from  the  pulpit  shall  be  interdicted 

To  the  unblushing  womankind  of  Florence 

To  go  about  displaying  breast  and  paps. 
What  savages  were  e'er,  what  Saracens, 

Who  stood  in  need,  to  make  them  covered  go, 

Of  spiritual  or  other  discipline  ? 
But  if  the  shameless  women  were  assured 

Of  what  swift  Heaven  prepares  for  them,  already 

Wide  open  would  they  have  their  mouths  to  howl ; 
For  if  my  foresight  here  deceive  me  not 

They  shall  be  sad  ere  he  has  bearded  cheeks 

Who  now  is  hushed  to  sleep  with  lullaby. 
O  brother,  now  no  longer  hide  thee  from  me  ; 

See  that  not  only  I,  but  all  these  people 

Are  gazing  there,  where  thou  dost  veil  the  sun.' 
Whence  I  to  him  :  *  If  thou  bring  back  to  mind 

What  thou  with  me  hast  been  and  I  with  thee, 

The  present  memory  will  be  grievous  still. 
Out  of  that  life  he  turned  me  back  who  goes 

In  front  of  me,  two  days  agone  when  round 

The  sister  of  him  yonder  showed  herself,' 
And  to  the  sun  I  pointed.     '  Through  the  deep 

Night  of  the  truly  dead  has  this  one  led  me, 

With  this  true  flesh,  that  follows  after  him. 
Thence  his  encouragements  have  led  me  up, 

Ascending  and  still  circling  round  the  mount 

That  you  doth  straighten,  whom  the  world  made  crooked. 

1  A  wild  mountainous  district,  almost  barbarous. 


176      The  entrance  on  the  Terrace  of  Fire. 

He  says  that  he  will  bear  me  company, 

Till  I  shall  be  where  Beatrice  will  be  ; 

There  it  behooves  me  to  remain  without  him. 
This  is  Virgilius,  who  thus  says  to  me,' 

And  him  I  pointed  at ;  '  the  other  is 

That  Shade  for  whom  just  now  shook  every  slope 
Your  realm,  that  from  itself  discharges  him.' 

xxni.  55-133- 

Many  Shades  were  then  pointed  out  by  name  :  —  consider- 
ing that  this  had  been  done  in  every  preceding  Circuit,  one 
is  somewhat  surprised  at  Forese's  statement  that  it  is  allowed 
here  on  account  of  their  altered  semblance.  At  last  the 
second  Tree  was  seen,  and  its  warnings  against  Gluttony 
heard.  About  a  mile  further  on,  at  two  o'clock  p.  M.,  the 
usual  processes  set  free  the  Poets  for  the  seventh  ascent ; 
and  as  they  performed  it,  Statius  explained  the  nature  and 
formation  of  the  shade-body. 

And  now  unto  the  last  of  all  the  circles 

Had  we  arrived  and  to  the  right  hand  turned, 
And  were  attentive  to  another  care. 

There  the  embankment  shoots  forth  flames  of  fire, 
And  upward  doth  the  cornice  breathe  a  blast 
That  drives  them  back,  and  from  itself  sequesters. 

Hence  we  must  needs  go  on  the  open  side, 
And  one  by  one  ;  and  I  did  fear  the  fire 
On  this  side,  and  on  that  the  falling  down. 

My  Leader  said :  '  Along  this  place  one  ought 
To  keep  upon  the  eyes  a  tightened  rein, 
Seeing  that  one  so  easily  might  err.' 

'  Summa  Deus  dementia]  in  the  bosom 
Of  the  great  burning  chanted  then  I  heardf 


The  Penitents  for  Lasciv 


Which  made  me  no  less  eager  to  turn  round ; 

And  Spirits  saw  I  walking  through  the  flame  ; 
Wherefore  I  looked,  to  my  own  steps  and  theirs 
Apportioning  my  sight  from  time  to  time. 

After  the  close  which  to  that  hymn  is  made, 
Aloud  they  shouted,  '  Virum  non  cognoscoj"1* 
Then  recommenced  the  hymn  with  voices  low. 

xxv.  109-129. 

On  this  Terrace  Dante  talked  with  the  poet  Guido 
Guinicelli  of  Bologna,  a  man  of  science,  and  one  of  the 
earliest  writers  in  pure  Italian ;  and  was  by  him  asked  to 
say  an  intercessory  Paternoster  up  to  the  point  where  it 
ceases  to  be  applicable  to  the  impeccable.  The  Provencal 
troubadour  Arnault  Daniel,  being  requested  to  tell  his 
name,  made  graceful  reply  in  his  native  tongue ;  and  as 
he  wholly  disappeared  within  the  fire,  the  Pilgrims  stood 
opposite  the  eighth  staircase. 

As  when  he  vibrates  forth  his  earliest  rays, 
In  regions  where  his  Maker  shed  His  blood, 
(The  Ebro  falling  under  lofty  Libra, 

And  waters  in  the  Ganges  burnt  with  noon,) 

So  stood  the  Sun:  2  hence  was  the  day  departing, 
When  the  glad  Angel  of  God  appeared  to  us. 

Outside  the  flame  he  stood  upon  the  verge, 
And  chanted  forth,  '•Beati  mundo  corde,' 
In  voice  by  far  more  living  than  our  own. 


1  The  B.  Virgin's  words  as  an  example  of  Chastity,  '  I  know  not  a 
man.' 

2  '  When  the  Sun  is  rising  at  Jerusalem,  it  is  setting  on  the  Mountain 
of  Purgatory ;  it  is  midnight  in  Spain,  with  Libra  in  the  meridian,  and 
noon  in  India.' 

12 


1 78  Dante  shrinks  from  the  Fire  : 

Then :  '  No  one  farther  goes,  souls  sanctified, 
If  first  the  fire  bite  not ;  within  it  enter, 

And  be  not  deaf  unto  the  song  beyond.' 

xxvn.  1-12. 

We  must  conclude  that  nowhere  round  this  whole  Ter- 
race is  there  any  break  in  the  flame-wreath;  wherefore 
no  penitent  Shade  but  must  needs  pass  through  it,  whether 
tainted  or  not  with  the  special  sin  chastised  by  sojourning 
within  it.  The  reason  may  perhaps  be  that  S.  Paul  appar- 
ently includes  each  and  every  soul  that  has  built  upon  the 
One  Foundation  'wood,  hay,  stubble,'  in  the  class  saved 
'so  as  by  fire.'1  And  Dante  himself  elsewhere  uses  'the 
fire,'  'the  temporal  fire,'  as  terms  equivalent  to  'Purga- 
tory.'2 

When  we  were  close  beside  him  thus  he  said ; 

Wherefore  e'en  such  became  I,  when  I  heard  him, 

As  he  is  who  is  put  into  the  grave. 
Upon  my  clasped  hands  I  straightened  me, 

Scanning  the  fire  and  vividly  recalling 

The  human  bodies  I  had  once  seen  burned. 

xxvn.  13-18. 

Yes,  and  in  that  awful  conflict  he  must  have  called  up 
with  more  agonizing  intensity  a  more  appalling  vision  —  for 
he  was  himself  under  sentence  of  death  by  fire  should  he 
again  be  found  in  Florence. 

Towards  me  turned  themselves  my  good  Conductors, 
And  unto  me  Virgilius  said  :  *  My  son, 
Here  may  indeed  be  torment,  but  not  death. 

Remember  thee,  remember !  and  if  I 
On  Geryon  have  safely  guided  thee, 

1  I  Cor.  iii.  10-15.  2  Inf.  i.  119.     Pur.  xxvii.  127. 


Virgil  persuades  him  to  pass  through.      1 79 

What  shall  I  do  now  I  am  nearer  God  ? 

Believe  for  certain,  shouldst  thou  stand  a  full 
Millennium  in  the  bosom  of  this  flame, 
It  could  not  make  thee  bald  a  single  hair. 

And  if  perchance  thou  think  that  I  deceive  thee, 
Draw  near  to  it,  and  put  it  to  the  proof 
With  thine  own  hands  upon  thy  garment's  hem. 

Now  lay  aside,  now  lay  aside  all  fear, 

Turn  hitherward,  and  onward  come  securely  ; ' 
And  I  still  motionless,  and  'gainst  my  conscience  ! 

Seeing  me  stand  still  motionless  and  stubborn, 

Somewhat  disturbed  he  said  :  '  Now  look  thou,  Son, 
'Twixt  Beatrice  and  thee  there  is  this  wall.' 

As  at  the  name  of  Thisbe  oped  his  lids 
The  dying  Pyramus,  and  gazed  upon  her, 
What  time  the  mulberry  became  vermilion, 

Even  thus,  my  obduracy  being  softened, 

I  turned  to  my  wise  Guide,  hearing  the  name 
That  in  my  memory  evermore  is  welling. 

Whereat  he  wagged  his  head,  and  said  :  '  How  now  ? 
Shall  we  stay  on  this  side  ?'  then  smiled  as  one 
Does  at  a  child  who  's  vanquished  by  an  apple. 

Then  into  the  fire  in  front  of  me  he  entered, 
Beseeching  Statius  to  come  after  me, 
Who  a  long  way  before  divided  us. 

When  I  was  in  it,  into  molten  glass 
I  would  have  cast  me  to  refresh  myself, 
So  without  measure  was  the  burning  there  ! 

And  my  sweet  Father,  to  encourage  me, 
Discoursing  still  of  Beatrice  went  on, 
Saying  :  '  Her  eyes  I  seem  to  see  already  ! ' 

A  voice,  that  on  the  other  side  was  singing, 
Directed  us,  and  we,  attent  alone 
On  that,  came  forth  where  the  ascent  began. 


180      D antes  dream  of  Leah  and  Rachel. 

4  Venite,  benedicti  Patris  meij 

Sounded  within  a  splendor,  which  was  there 
Such  it  o'ercame  me,  and  I  could  not  look. 

'  The  sun  departs,'  it  added,  'and  night  cometh  ; 
Tarry  ye  not,  but  onward  urge  your  steps, 
So  long  as  yet  the  west  becomes  not  dark.' 

xxvii.  19-63. 

But  no  haste  availed :  Dante's  shadow  went  out  before 
him  with  the  Sun's  last  ray  behind  him ;  not  another  up- 
ward step  was  possible ;  and  he  with  his  two  companions 
lay  down  for  the  night,  each  on  a  several  stair  between  the 
high  walls  of  the  strait  ascent. 

Little  could  there  "be  seen  of  things  without; 
But  through  that  little  I  beheld  the  stars 
More  luminous  and  larger  than  their  wont. 

Thus  ruminating,  and  beholding  these, 

Sleep  seized  upon  me,  —  sleep,  that  oftentimes 
Before, a  deed  is  done  has  tidings  of  it. 

It  was  the  hour,  I  think,  when  from  the  East 
First  on  the  mountain  Cytherea  beamed, 
Who  with  the  fire  of  love  seems  always  burning  ; 

Youthful  and  beautiful  in  dreams  methought 
I  saw  a  lady  walking  in  a  meadow, 
Gathering  flowers ;  and  singing  she  was  saying : 

'  Know  whosoever  may  my  name  demand 
That  I  am  Leah,  and  go  moving  round 

.    My  beauteous  hands  to  make  myself  a  garland. 

To  please  me  at  the  mirror,  here  I  deck  me, 
But  never  does  my  sister  Rachel  leave 
Her  looking-glass,  and  sitteth  all  day  long. 

To  see  her  beauteous  eyes  as  eager  is  she, 
As  I  am  to  adorn  me  with  my  hands  ; 

Her,  seeing,  and  me,  doing  satisfies.' 

xxvii.  88-108. 


The  ascent  from  Purgatory.  1 8 1 

Leah  is  the  symbol  of  the  Active  Life ;  Rachel  of  the 
Contemplative,  which  is  the  more  perfect.  But  neither  wife 
could  Jacob  obtain  without  previous  long  and  toilsome 
service.  Even  so  has  the  Mount  of  Purgation  now  led  up 
to  the  lower  or  Terrestrial  Paradise  of  Action ;  which  again 
will  serve  as  the  stepping-stone  to  the  higher  or  Celestial 
Paradise  of  Contemplation. 

And  now  Easter  Wednesday  is  dawning. 

And  now  before  the  antelucan  splendors 
That  unto  pilgrims  the  more  grateful  rise, 
As,  home-returning,  less  remote  they  lodge, 

The  darkness  fled  away  on  every  side, 
And  slumber  with  it ;  whereupon  I  rose, 
Seeing  already  the  great  Masters  risen. 

4  That  apple  sweet,1  which  through  so  many  branches 
The  care  of  mortals  goeth  in  pursuit  of, 
To-day  shall  put  in  peace  thy  hungerings.' 

Speaking  to  me,  Virgilius  of  such  words 
As  these  made  use  ;  and  never  were  there  guerdons 
That  could  in  pleasantness  compare  with  these. 

Such  longing  upon  longing  came  upon  me 
To  be  above,  that  at  each  step  thereafter 
For  flight  I  felt  in  me  the  pinions  growing. 

When  underneath  us  was  the  stairway  all 
Run  o'er,  and  we  were  on  the  highest  step, 
Virgilius  fastened  upon  me  his  eyes, 

And  said  :  '  The  temporal  fire  and  the  eternal, 
Son,  thou  hast  seen,  and  to  a  place  art  come 
Where  of  myself  no  farther  I  discern. 

By  intellect  and  art  I  here  have  brought  thee  ; 

Take  thine  own  pleasure  for  thy  guide  henceforth  ; 

1  True  Happiness. 


1 82       Dante  pronounced  whole  and  free. 

Beyond  the  steep  ways  and  the  narrow  art  thou. 

Behold  the  sun,  that  shines  upon  thy  forehead  ; 
Behold  the  grass,  the  flowerets,  and  the  shrubs 
Which  of  itself  alone  this  land  produces. 

Until  rejoicing  come  the  beauteous  eyes 

Which  weeping  caused  me  to  come  unto  thee, 

Thou  canst  sit  down,  and  thou  canst  walk  among  them. 

Expect  no  more  or  word  or  sign  from  me  ; 
Free  and  upright  and  sound  is  thy  free-will, 
And  error  were  it  not  to  do  its  bidding  ; 

Thee  o'er  thyself  I  therefore  crown  and  mitre  ! ' 

xxvii.  109-142. 


CHAPTER   IX. 


AND   THE   DESCENT 


A 


OF   BEATRICE. 

Questo  luogo,  eletto 
All*  umana  natura  per  suo  nido. 

This  place 
Elect  to  human  nature  for  its  nest. 

Pur.  xxviii.  77,  78. 

ND  so  the  crowned  King  and  mitred  Priest  entered 
his  kingdom  and  temple  of  Paradise. 


Eager  already  to  search  in  and  round 

The  heavenly  forest,  dense  and  living-green, 
Which  tempered  to  the  eyes  the  new-born  day, 

Withouten  more  delay  I  left  the  bank, 
Taking  the  level  country  slowly,  slowly 
Over  the  soil  that  everywhere  breathes  fragrance. 

A  softly-breathing  air,  that  no  mutation 
Had  in  itself,  upon  the  forehead  smote  me 
No  heavier  blow  than  of  a  gentle  wind, 

Whereat  the  branches,  lightly  tremulous, 

Did  all  of  them  bow  downward  toward  that  side 
Where  its  first  shadow  casts  the  Holy  Mountain  ; 

Yet  not  from  their  upright  direction  swayed, 
So  that  the  little  birds  upon  their  tops 
Should  leave  the  practice  of  each  art  of  theirs  ; 

But  with  full  ravishment  the  hours  of  prime, 
Singing,  received  they  in  the  midst  of  leaves, 


1 84          Matilda  appears :  who  is  she  ? 

That  ever  bore  a  burden  to  their  rhymes. 

Such  as  from  branch  to  branch  goes  gathering  on 
Through  the  pine  forest  on  the  shore  of  Chiassi, 
When  Eolus  unlooses  the  Sirocco. 

Already  my  slow  steps  had  carried  me 
Into  the  ancient  wood  so  far,  that  I 
Could  not  perceive  where  I  had  entered  it. 

And  lo  !  my  further  course  a  stream  cut  off, 
Which  tow'rd  the  left  hand  with  its  little  waves 
Bent  down  the  grass  that  on  its  margin  sprang.  . 

All  waters  that  on  earth  most  limpid  are 

Would  seem  to  have  within  themselves  some  mixture 
Compared  with  that  which  nothing  doth  conceal. 

Although  it  moves  on  with  a  brown,  brown  current 
Under  the  shade  perpetual,  that  never 
Ray  of  the  sun  lets  in,  nor  of  the  moon. 

With  feet  I  stayed,  and  with  mine  eyes  I  passed 
Beyond  the  rivulet,  to  look  upon 
The  great  variety  of  the  fresh  May. 

And  there  appeared  to  me  (even  as  appears 
Suddenly  something  that  doth  turn  aside 
Through  very  wonder  every  other  thought) 

A  lady  all  alone,  who  went  along 

Singing  and  culling  floweret  after  floweret, 
With  which  her  pathway  was  all  painted  over. 

Pur.  xxvin.  1-42. 

This  lady  is  named  Matilda,  and  no  further  defined.  But 
as  any  '  Elizabeth '  as  barely  named  in  an  English  poem 
would  be  unhesitatingly  identified  with  our  great  Queen 
Elizabeth,  so  is  it  scarcely  possible  not  to  identify  this 
lovely  poetic  vision  with  Matilda  Countess  of  Tuscany,  of 
unique  celebrity  in  mediaeval  history.  Born  somewhat 
before  the  middle  of  the  eleventh  century,  she  succeeded 


Dante  accosts  Matilda.  185 

her  father  Boniface  in  his  vast  possessions,  comprising 
not  only  Tuscany,  but  Mantua,  Parma,  Reggio,  Placentia, 
Ferrara,  Modena,  a  part  of  Umbria,  the  duchy  of  Spoleto, 
Verona,  almost  all  the  country  afterwards  called  the  Patri- 
mony of  S.  Peter,  and  part  of  the  Marches  of  Ancona.  She 
adhered  with  the  utmost  devotion  to  Pope  Gregory  VII., 
and  to  his  successors,  in  all  their  contests  with  the  Emperors, 
and  dying  childless  bequeathed  her  territories  to  the  Holy 
See.  Her  unvarying  espousal  of  the  Papal  as  opposed  to 
'the  Imperial  cause  seems  the  only  point  that  can  reason- 
ably cast  a  doubt  on  the  identity  of  the  two  Matildas, 
Dante  holding,  as  we  have  seen,  a  view  essentially  different. 
But  in  any  case  the  Flower-culler  of  Eden,  the  only  per- 
manent inhabitant  appearing  there,  would  seem  to  be  the 
realization  and  development  of  the  dream-Leah,  and  so  the 
Christian  type  of  the  Active  Life  in  the  Paradise  of  Earth  : 
Beatrice  standing  in  the  same  relation  to  the  dream-Rachel, 
and  to  the  Contemplative  Life  in  the  Paradise  of  Heaven. 

4  Ah,  beauteous  lady,  who  in  rays  of  love 
Dost  warm  thyself,  if  I  may  trust  to  looks, 
Which  the  heart's  witnesses  are  wont  to  be, 

May  the  desire  come  unto  thee  to  draw 
Near  to  this  river's  bank,'  I  said  to  her, 
*  So  much  that  I  may  hear  what  thou  art  singing. 

Thou  makest  me  remember  where  and  what 
Proserpina  that  moment  was  when  lost 
Her  mother  her,  and  she  herself  the  Spring.' 

As  turns  herself,  with  feet  together  pressed 
And  to  the  ground,  a  lady  who  is  dancing, 
And  hardly  puts  one  foot  before  the  other, 

On  the  vermilion  and  the  yellow  flowerets 
She  turned  towards  me,  not  in  other  wise 


1 86       Matilda  joys  in  the  works  of  God. 

Than  maiden  who  her  modest  eyes  casts  down  ; 

And  my  entreaties  made  to  be  content, 
So  near  approaching,  that  the  dulcet  sound 
Came  unto  me  together  with  its  meaning. 

As  soon  as  she  was  where  the  grasses  are 
Bathed  by  the  waters  of  the  beauteous  river, 
To  lift  her  eyes  she  granted  me  the  boon. 

I  do  not  think  there  shone  so  great  a  light 
Under  the  lids  of  Venus,  when  transfixed 
By  her  own  son,  beyond  his  usual  custom  !  1 

Erect  upon  the  other  bank  she  smiled, 
Bearing  full  many  colors  in  her  hands, 
Which  that  high  land  produces  without  seed. 

Apart  three  paces  did  the  river  make  us ; 
But  Hellespont  where  Xerxes  passed  across 
(A  curb  still  to  all  human  arrogance), 

More  hatred  from  Leander  did  not  suffer 
For  rolling  between  Sestos  and  Abydos, 
Than  that  from  me,  because  it  oped  not  then. 

'Ye  are  new-comers;  and  because  I  smile,' 
Began  she,  '  peradventure,  in  this  place 
Elect  to  human  nature  for  its  nest, 

Some  apprehension  keeps  you  marvelling ; 
But  the  psalm  Delectasti  giveth  light 
Which  has  the  power  to  uncloud  your  intellect.' 

xxvin.  43-81. 

'  Delectasti '  begins  verse  5  of  Psalm  xci.  (Vulgate)  2  which 
says,  '  Thou,  Lord,  hast  made  me  glad  through  Thy  works  : 
and  I  will  rejoice  in  giving  praise  for  the  operations  of  Thy 
hands.'  Matilda  having  thus  explained  the  source  of  her 
smiling  joy,  declared  herself  ready  to  answer  any  farther 

1  When  he  accidentally  shot  into  her  the  arrow  of  love  fof  Adonis. 

2  In  the  English  Prayer-Book  version,  Psalm  xcii.  4. 


The  climate  and  productions  of  Eden.     187 

questions ;  and  Dante  was  not  slow  to  ask  how  breeze  and 
stream  could  exist  where,  as  Statius  had  told  him,  there 
was  neither  wind  nor  rain.  The  reply  taught  him  first  of 
the  breeze  :  —  The  winds  and  rains  from  which  Eden  by  its 
upheaval  is  exempt,  are  those  caused  below  the  Gate  of 
S.  Peter  by  the  Sun's  heat  drawing  up  exhalations  from 
Earth  and  Water.  But  the  movement  of  the  Heavens  from 
East  to  West  carries  with  it  that  of  the  Spheres  of  Air  and 
^Ether  (or  Fire)  :  —  in  the  Sphere  of  Air  the  weather-vicissi- 
tudes completely  break  up  this  movement  and  render  it 
insensible,  while  in  the  free  Sphere  of  ^Ether  it  is  unbroken 
and  sensible,  and  constitutes  the  breeze  wherewith  the 
forest  is  tremulous  and  musical.  The  stricken  plants  in 
their  turn  impart  to  that  breeze  a  virtue  which  it  then  in 
its  gyration  diffuses  all  around,  fertilizing  the  generous  soil 
with  abundant  plant-growth  diverse  in  qualities.  The 
Paradisiacal  table-land  contains  within  itself  every  kind  of 
seed  producing  fruit ;  and  if  perchance  any  plant  in  Earth's 
baser  hemisphere  seem  to  spring  up  without  seed,  its  ger- 
mination must  be  attributed  to  some  seed  whirled  -and 
dropped  from  Eden ;  albeit  no  such  fruit  may  be  hoped  for 
here  as  it  there  would  have  brought  forth.  And  as  to  the 
stream  — 

*  The  water  which  thou  seest  springs  not  from  vein 
Restored  by  vapor  that  the  cold  condenses, 
Like  to  a  stream  that  gains  or  loses  breath  ; 

But  issues  from  a  fountain  safe  and  certain, 
Which  by  the  Will  of  God  as  much  regains 
As  it  discharges,  open  on  two  sides. 

Upon  this  side  with  virtue  it  descends, 
Which  takes  away  all  memory  of  sin  ; 


1 88     The  Rivers  of  Eden.     The  Golden  Age. 

On  that,  of  every  good  deed  done  restores  it. 
Here  Lethe,  as  upon  the  other  side 

Eunoe,  it  is  called  ;  and  worketh  not 

If  first  on  either  side  it  be  not  tasted. 
This  every  other  savor  doth  transcend  ; 

And  notwithstanding  slaked  so  far  may  be 

Thy  thirst,  that  I  reveal  to  thee  no  more, 
I  '11  give  thee  a  corollary  still  in  grace, 

Nor  think  my  speech  will  be  to  thee  less  dear 

If  it  spread  out  beyond  my  promise  to  thee. 
Those  who  in  ancient  times  have  feigned  in  song 

The  Age  of  Gold  and  its  felicity, 

Dreamed  of  this  place  perhaps  upon  Parnassus. 
Here  was  the  human  race  in  innocence ; 

Here  evermore  was  Spring,  and  every  fruit ; 

This  is  the  nectar  of  which  each  one  speaks.* 
Then  backward  did  I  turn  me  wholly  round 

Unto  my  Poets,  and  saw  that  with  a  smile 

They  had  been  listening  to  these  closing  words  ; 
Then  to  the  beautiful  lady  turned  mine  eyes. 

Singing  like  unto  an  enamoured  lady 
She,  -with  the  ending  of  her  words,  continued : 
'  Beati  quorum  tecta  sunt  peccata?  * 

And  even  as  Nymphs,  that  wandered  all  alone 
Among  the  sylvan  shadows,  sedulous 
One  to  avoid  and  one  to  see  the  sun, 

She  then  against  the  stream  moved  onward,  going 
Along  the  bank,  and  I  abreast  of  her, 
Her  little  steps  with  little  steps  attending. 

Between  her  steps  and  mine  were  not  a  hundred, 
When  equally  the  margins  gave  a  turn, 
In  such  a  way,  that  to  the  East  I  faced. 

1  'Blessed  is  he  —  whose  sin  is  covered.' — Ps.  xxxii.  I. 


The  Procession  of  the  Church  militant.     189 

Nor  even  thus  our  way  continued  far 
Before  the  lady  wholly  turned  herself 
Unto  me,  saying,  '  Brother,  look  and  listen  !  * 

And  lo  !  a  sudden  lustre  ran  across 

On  every  side  athwart  the  spacious  forest, 
Such  that  it  made  me  doubt  if  it  were  lightning. 

But  since  the  lightning  ceases  as  it  comes, 

And  that  continuing  brightened  more  and  more, 
Within  my  thought  I  said,  «  What  thing  is  this  ?  ' 

And  a  delicious  melody  there  ran 

Along  the  luminous  air,  whence  holy  zeal 
Made  me  rebuke  the  hardihood  of  Eve  ; 

For  there  where  earth  and  heaven  obedient  were, 
The  woman  only,  and  but  just  created, 
Could  not  endure  to  stay  'neath  any  veil ; 

Underneath  which  had  she  devoutly  stayed, 
I  sooner  should  have  tasted  those  delights 
Ineffable,  and  for  a  longer  time. 

xxvin.  121-148.     xxix.  1-30. 

Marvellous  indeed  was  the  procession  now  advancing 
aTnmr__  Matilda's  sidp  of  Lethe.  The  brightness  quickly 
resolved  itself  into  seven  golden  candlesticks  all  aflame, 
the  melody  into  distinct  Hosannas ;  and  here  a  wondering 
look  towards  Virgil  was  answered  only  in  kind,  for  Pagan 
Rome  and  Limbo  taught  not  of  the  songs  of  Sion,  nor  of 
the  Sevenfold  Gifts  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  On  and  on, 
majestically  slow,  and  preceding  a  white-robed  train  of 
Patriarchs,  Prophets,  and  others  who  died  in  faith  not 
having  received  the  promises,  came  the  seven  flames,  each 
trailing  behind  it  a  luminous  aerial  pennon  of  such  hue  that 
the  seven  pennons  completed  the  rainbow  typical  of  the 
seven  Sacraments.  Then  followed,  two  and  two,  twenty- 


i  go  The  Procession  continued. 

four  Elders  crowned  with  lilies ;  the  twenty-four  Books  of 
the  Old  Testament l  personified  and  crowned  with  the  grace 
of  Faith.  Then  the  four  Living  Beings  of  Ezekjel  and 
S.  John,  symbolic  of  the  four  Gospels  :  and  in  the  square 
whereof  they  formed  the  corners  the  chariot  of  the  Church, 
resting  on  the  two  wheels  of  the  two  Covenants,  and 
drawn  by  the  Gryphon  blended  of  golden-plumed  Eagle 
and  Lion  white  and  ruddy,  meet  emblem  of  our  Blessed 
Lord  in  His  two  Natures  Divine  and  Human ;  with  Feet 
resting  on  Earth  and  Wings  stretching  sheer  up  into  Heaven. 
Beside  the  Christian  right  wheel  danced  three  damsels, 
white,  green,  and  red  —  the  Theological  Virtues  :  beside  the 
Jewish  left  wheel  four  purple-robed  —  the  Cardinal  Virtues ; 
triple-eyed  Prudence  leading  her  sisters.  —  Then  followed 
the  Writers  as  quasi-personifications  of  the  remaining  Books 
of  the  New  Testament,  two  of  them  in  consequence  pre- 
sented and  re-presented  under  varying  aspects.  ,JWjtll  S 
Paul  bearing  the  sword  of  the  Spirit  walked  in  physician's 
garb  his  historian  S.  Luke ;  behind  them  SS.  James,  Peter, 
John,  and  Jude,  in  humble  seeming  as  authors  of  the 
short  Canonical  Epistles ;  last  of  all  S.__  John  once  more, 
aged  and  solitary,  in  keen-faced  slumber  as  the  Seer  of 
the  Apocalypse.  These  were  habited  like  their  elder 
Brethren,  excepting  that  their  wreaths,  as  emblematic  of 
Love  rather  than  of  Faith,  were  of  roses  and  other  red 
flowers. 

1  The  45  books  of  the  Old  Testament  according  to  the  Vulgate  are 
thus  counted  as  24.  The  Pentateuch  =  5 ;  Joshua,  Judges,  Ruth  =  3  ; 
4  of  Kings  =  i ;  2  of  Chronicles  =  I ;  2  of  Ezra  =  i ;  Tobit,  Judith, 
Esther,  Job  =  4;  Psalms  =  i;  the  Sapiential  Books  =  4;  the  Song 
of  Songs=i;  5  Major  Prophets  =  i;  12  Minor  Prophets=i;  2 
of  Maccabees  =  i. 


Beatrice  descends.  191 

But  now  thunder  gave  the  signal  for  a  halt ;  and  Solomon 
from  among  the  Twenty-four  sang  thrice  '  Come,  Spouse, 
from  Lebanon ; '  and  a  many-voiced  echo  went  up  from  his 
companions. 

Even  as  the  Blessed  at  the  final  summons 

Shall  rise  up  quickened  each  one  from  his  cavern, 

Uplifting  light  the  reinvested  flesh, 
So  upon  that  celestial  chariot 

A  hundred  rose  ad  vocem  tanti  sems,1 

Ministers  and  messengers  of  life  eternal. 
They  all  were  saying,  *  Benedictus  qui  vents, ,* 2 

And,  scattering  flowers  above  and  round  about, 

'  Manibus  o  date  lilia  plenis?  8 
Ere  now  have  I  beheld,  as  day  began, 

The  eastern  hemisphere  all  tinged  with  rose, 

And  the  other  heaven  with  fair  serene  adorned ; 
And  the  sun's  face,  uprising,  overshadowed 

So  that  by  tempering  influence  of  vapors 

For  a  long  interval  the  eye  sustained  it ; 
Thus  in  the  bosom  of  a  cloud  of  flowers 

Which  from  those  hands  angelical  ascended, 

And  downward  fell  again  inside  and  out, 
Over  her  snow-white  veil  with  olive  cinct 

Appeared  a  lady  under  a  green  mantle, 

Vested  in  color  of  the  living  flame. 
And  my  own  spirit,  that  already  now 

So  long  a  time  had  been,  that  in  her  presence 

Trembling  with  awe  it  had  not  stood  abashed, 
Without  more  knowledge  having  by  mine  eyes, 

1  '  At  the  voice  of  so  venerable  an  old  man.' 

2  '  Blessed  art  thou  that  comest.' 

8  <dZneid\i.  88-?:  Give  lilies  in  handfuls. 


1 9  2  Virgil  has  van  ished. 

Through  occult  virtue  that  from  her  proceeded 
Of  ancient  love  the  mighty  influence  felt. 

As  soon  as  on  my  vision  smote  the  power 

Sublime,  that  had  already  pierced  me  through 
Ere  from  my  boyhood  I  had  yet  come  forth, 

To  the  left  hand  I  turned  with  that  reliance 
With  which  the  little  child  runs  to  his  mother, 
When  he  has  fear,  or  when  he  is  afflicted, 

To  say  unto  Virgilius :  *  Not  a  drachm 

Of  blood  remains  in  me,  that  does  not  tremble  ; 
I  know  the  traces  of  the  ancient  flame.' 

But  us  Virgilius  of  himself  deprived 
Had  left,  Virgilius,  sweetest  of  all  fathers, 
Virgilius,  to  whom  I  for  safety  gave  me  : 

Nor  whatsoever  lost  the  ancient  mother * 
Availed  my  cheeks  now  purified  from  dew, 
That  weeping  they  should  not  again  be  darkened. 

xxx.  13-54. 

Crownless  Human  Science  had  given  place  to  Divine 
Science  olive-crowned,  grace-vested,  having  an  Unction 
from  the  Holy  One  and  knowing  all  things;  the  Leader, 
Lord  and  Master  of  Intellect  to  the  Treasure  of  Memory 
and  of  Love.  Even  at  the  point  where  Dante  had  laid  her 
down  dead  would  he  now  have  taken  her  up  living ;  but 
she  would  take  him  up,  not  such  as  in  vision  he  went  forth 
of  her  death-chamber,  but  such  as  intervening  life  had 
made  and  set  him  before  her  then  and  there. 

1  Dante,  because  Virgilius  has  departed 
Do  not  weep  yet,  do  not  weep  yet  awhile  ; 
For  by  another  sword  thou  needs  must  weep.' 

1  The  terrestrial  Paradise  forfeited  by  Eve. 


Beatrice  begins  her  reproof.  193 

E'en  as  an  admiral,  who  on  poop  and  prow 

Comes  to  behold  the  people  that  are  working 

In  other  ships,  and  cheers  them  to  well-doing, 
Upon  the  left-hand  border  of  the  car, 

When  at  the  sound  I  turned  of  my  own  name, 

Which  of  necessity  is  here  recorded, 
I  saw  the  Lady,  who  erewhile  appeared 

Veiled  underneath  the  angelic  festival, 

Direct  her  eyes  to  me  across  the  river. 
Although  the  veil,  that  from  her  head  descended, 

Encircled  with  the  foliage  of  Minerva, 

Did  not  permit  her  to  appear  distinctly, 
In  attitude  still  royally  majestic 

Continued  she,  like  unto  one  who  speaks, 

And  keeps  his  warmest  utterance  in  reserve  : 
'  Look  at  me  well ;  in  sooth  I  'm  Beatrice  ! 

How  didst  thou  deign  to  come  unto  the  Mountain  ? 

Didst  thou  not  know  that  man  is  happy  here  ? ' 
Mine  eyes  fell  downward  into  the  clear  fountain, 

But,  seeing  myself  therein,  I  sought  the  grass, 

So  great  a  shame  did  weigh  my  forehead  down. 
As  to  the  son  the  mother  seems  superb, 

So  she' appeared  to  me  ;  for  somewhat  bitter 

Tasteth  the  savor  of  severe  compassion. 
Silent  became  she,  and  the  Angels  sang 

Suddenly,  '  In  Te,  Domine,  speravi  :  ' l 

But  beyond  pedes  meos1  did  not  pass. 
Even  as  the  snow  among  the  living  rafters 

Upon  the  back  of  Italy2  congeals, 

Blown  on  and  drifted  by  Sclavonian  winds, 


1  '  In  Thee,  O  Lord,  have  I  hoped '  —  '  my  feet.'  —  Psalm,  xxx.  2-9, 
Vulgate ;  xxxi.  1-9,  English  Prayer-Book  version. 

2  The  Apennines. 

13 


194          Beatrice  addresses  the  Angels : 

And  then,  dissolving,  trickles  through  itself 
Whene'er  the  land  that  loses  shadow  breathes,1 
So  that  it  seems  a  fire  that  melts  a  taper ; 

E'en  thus  was  I  without  a  tear  or  sigh, 
Before  the  song  of  those  who  sing  forever 
After  the  music  of  the  eternal  spheres. 

But  when  I  heard  in  their  sweet  melodies 

Compassion  for  me,  more  than  had  they  said, 
*  O  wherefore,  lady,  dost  thou  thus  upbraid  him  ? ' 

The  ice,  that  was  about  my  heart  congealed, 
To  air  and  water  changed,  and  in  my  anguish 
Through  mouth  and  eyes  came  gushing  from  my  breast. 

She,  on  the  right-hand  border  of  the  car 
Still  firmly  standing,  to  those  holy  beings 
Thus  her  discourse  directed  afterwards  : 

*  Ye  keep  your  watch  in  the  eternal  day, 
So  that  nor  night  nor  sleep  can  steal  from  you 
One  step  the  ages  make  upon  their  path  ; 

Therefore  my  answer  is  with  greater  care, 
That  he  may  hear  me  who  is  weeping  yonder, 
So  that  the  sin  and  dole  be  of  one  measure. 

Not  only  by  the  work  of  those  great  wheels, 
That  destine  every  seed  unto  some  end, 
According  as  the  stars  are  in  conjunction, 

But  by  the  largess  of  celestial  graces, 

Which  have  such  lofty  vapors  for  their  rain 
That  near  to  them  our  sight  approaches  not, 

Such  had  this  man  become  in  his  new  life 
Potentially,  that  every  righteous  habit 
Would  have  made  admirable  proof  in  him  ; 

But  so  much  more  malignant  and  more  savage 
Becomes  the  land  untilled  and  with  bad  seed, 

1  When  the  wind  blows  from  Africa,  shadowless  at  noon  within  the 
Tropics. 


turns  her  discourse  to  Dante.  195 

The  more  good  earthly  vigor  it  possesses. 

Some  time  did  I  sustain  him  with  my  look; 
Revealing  unto  him  my  youthful  eyes, 
I  led  him  with  me  turned  in  the  right  way. 

As  soon  as  ever  of  my  second  age l 

I  was  upon  the  threshold  and  changed  life, 
Himself  from  me  he  took  and  gave  to  others. 

When  from  the  flesh  to  spirit  I  ascended 
And  beauty  and  virtue  were  in  me  increased, 
I  was  to  him  less  dear  and  less  delightful ; 

And  into  ways  untrue  he  turned  his  steps, 
Pursuing  the  false  images  of  good, 
That  never  any  promises  fulfil ; 

Nor  prayer  for  inspiration  me  availed, 

By  means  of  which  in  dreams  and  otherwise 
I  called  him  back,  so  little  did  he  heed  them. 

So  low  he  fell,  that  all  appliances 
For  his  salvation  were  already  short, 
Save  showing  him  the  people  of  perdition. 

For  this  I  visited  the  gates  of  death, 
And  unto  him,  who  so  far  up  has  led  him, 
My  intercessions  were  with  weeping  borne. 

God's  lofty  fiat  would  be  violated, 
If  Lethe  should  be  passed,  and  if  such  viands 
Should  tasted  be,  withouteri  any  scot 

Of  penitence,  that  gushes  forth  in  tears.' 

'  O  thou  who  art  beyond  the  sacred  river,' 
Turning  to  me  the  point  of  her  discourse, 
That  edgewise  even  had  seemed  to  me  so  keen, 

She  recommenced,  continuing  without  pause, 
'  Say,  say  if  this  be  true  ;  to  such  a  charge 

1  The  second  age,  or  Adolescence,  was  reckoned  to  begin  at  25,  of 
which  Beatrice  wanted  9  months  at  her  death. 


1 96  Dante  makes  confession  : 

Thy  own  confession  needs  must  be  conjoined.' 

My  faculties  were  in  so  great  confusion, 

That  the  voice  moved,  but  sooner  was  extinct 
Than  by  its  organs  it  was  set  at  large. 

Awhile  she  waited  ;  then  she  said  :  '  What  thinkest  ? 
Answer  me  ;  for  the  mournful  memories 
In  thee  not  yet  are  by  the  waters  injured.' 

Confusion  and  dismay  together  mingled 

Forced  such  a  Yes  !  from  out  my  mouth,  that  sight 
Was  needful  to  the  understanding  of  it. 

Even  as  a  cross-bow  breaks,  when  't  is  discharged 
Too  tensely  drawn  the  bowstring  and  the  bow, 
And  with  less  force  the  arrow  hits  the  mark, 

So  I  gave  way  beneath  that  heavy  burden, 
Outpouring  in  a  torrent  tears  and  sighs, 
And  the  voice  flagged  upon  its  passage  forth. 

Whence  she  to  me  :  '  In  those  desires  of  mine 
Which  led  thee  to  the  loving  of  that  good, 
Beyond  which  there  is  nothing  to  aspire  to, 

What  trenches  lying  traverse  or  what  chains 
Didst  thou  discover,  that  of  passing  onward 
Thou  shouldst  have  thus  despoiled  thee  of  the  hope  ? 

And  what  allurements  or  what  vantages 
Upon  the  forehead  of  the  others l  showed, 
That  thou  shouldst  turn  thy  footsteps  unto  them  ?  ' 

After  the  heaving  of  a  bitter  sigh, 
Hardly  had  I  the  voice  to  make  response, 
And  with  fatigue  my  lips  did  fashion  it. 

Weeping  I  said :  *  The  things  that  present  were 
With  their  false  pleasure  turned  aside  my  steps, 
Soon  as  your  countenance  concealed  itself.' 

And  she  :  *  Shouldst  thou  be  silent,  or  deny 

1  The  other  desires,  *.  e.  of  worldly  goods  and  pleasures. 


is  forgiven,  yet  further  rebuked.         1 9  7 

What  them  confessest,  not  less  manifest 

Would  be  thy  fault,  by  such  a  Judge  't  is  known. 
But  when  from  one's  own  cheeks  comes  bursting  forth 

The  accusal  of  the  sin,  in  our  tribunal 

Against  the  edge  the  wheel  doth  turn  itself. 
But  still,  that  thou  mayst  feel  a  greater  shame 

For  thy  transgression,  and  another  time 

Hearing  the  Sirens  thou  mayst  be  more  strong, 
Cast  down  the  seed  of  weeping  and  attend  ; 

So  shalt  thou  hear,  how  in  an  opposite  way 

My  buried  flesh  should  have  directed  thee. 
Never  to  thee  presented  art  or  nature 

Pleasure  so  great  as  the  fair  limbs  wherein 

I  was  enclosed,  which  scattered  are  in  earth. 
And  if  the  highest  pleasure  thus  did  fail  thee 

By  reason  of  my  death,  what  mortal  thing 

Should  then  have  drawn  thee  into  its  desire  ? 
Thou  oughtest  verily  at  the  first  shaft 

Of  things  fallacious  to  have  risen  up 

To  follow  me,  who  was  no  longer  such. 
Thou  oughtest  not  to  have  stooped  thy  pinions  downward 

To  wait  for  further  blows,  or  little  girl, 

Or  other  vanity  of  such  brief  use. 
The  callow  birdlet  waits  for  two  or  three, 

But  to  the  eyes  of  those  already  fledged, 

In  vain  the  net  is  spread  or  shaft  is  shot.' 
Even  as  children  silent  in  their  shame 

Stand  listening  with  their  eyes  upon  the  ground, 

And  conscious  of  their  fault,  and  penitent ; 
So  was  I  standing  ;  and  she  said :  *  If  thou 

In  hearing  suflferest  pain,  lift  up  thy  beard 

And  thou  shalt  feel  a  greater  pain  in  seeing.' 
With  less  resistance  is  a  robust  holm 

Uprooted,  either  by  a  native  wind 


198     Dante  sinks  under  the  memory  of  sin  : 

Or  else  by  that  from  regions  of  larbas,1 

Than  I  upraised  at  her  command  my  chin  : 
And  when  she  by  the  beard  the  face  demanded, 
Well  I  perceived  the  venom  of  her  meaning. 

And  as  my  countenance  was  lifted  up, 

Mine  eye  perceived  those  creatures  beautiful 
Had  rested  from  the  strewing  of  the  flowers  ; 

And,  still  but  little  reassured,  mine  eyes 

Saw  Beatrice  turned  round  towards  the  monster,2 
That  is  one  person  only  in  two  natures. 

Beneath  her  veil,  beyond  the  margent  green, 
She  seemed  to  me  far  more  her  ancient  self 
To  excel,  than  others  here,  when  she  was  here. 

So  pricked  me  then  the  thorn  of  penitence,  - 
That  of  all  other  things  the  one  which  turned  me 
Most  to  its  love  became  the  most  my  foe. 

Such  self-conviction  stung  me  at  the  heart 
O'erpowered  I  fell,  and  what  I  then  became 
She  knoweth  who  had  furnished  me  the  cause. 

xxx.  55-145.    xxxi.  1-90. 

This  sufficed.  The  memory  of  sin  had  done  its  work, 
and  might  now  be  forever  left  behind  in  the  waters  of 
Lethe.  Ere  yet  Dante  had  recovered  consciousness  Ma- 

1  '  larbas,  King  of  Gaetulia,  from  whom  Dido  bought  the  land  for 
building  Carthage.' 

2  Orig.yfenz  =  wild  animal ;  not  necessarily,  though  in  modern  Italian 
usually,  =  beast  of  prey.     This  perplexing  word  is  rendered  by  various 
translators  in  various  ways.     Mr.  Johnston  simply  substitutes  '  Gry- 
phon ; '  an  expedient  I  on  the  whole  prefer,  considering  the  extreme 
difficulty  of  renderingyfmz  literally,  and  the  surpassing  sacredness  of 
the  only  interpretation  I,  in  common  with  nearly  all  commentators, 
have  attached  to  the  symbol.     It  is  not,  however,  the  only  interpreta- 
tion suggested  by  Mr.  Longfellow.     And  I  would  remind  the  reader 
that,  whatever  may  be  the  popular  use  of  the  term  monster,  it  is  pri- 
marily equivalent  to  prodigy. 


drinks  its  oblivion  in  Lethe.  199 

tilda  had  immersed  him  up  to  the  throat;  then  having 
drawn  him  conscious  to  the  opposite  bank  she  plunged  his 
head  for  the  draught  of  oblivion.  Next,  graciously  owned 
and  led  by  the  Four  Virtues,  he  was  strengthened  to  behold 
within  the  fixed  and  veiled  eyes  of  Beatrice  the  double- 
natured  changeless  Gryphon  changefully  mirrored  in  each 
nature  alternately.  And  finally,  at  the  acceptable  inter- 
cession of  the  Three  Virtues,  the  unveiled  face  beamed  full 
upon  him,  and  he  beheld  that  second  beauty  into  which  the 
first  had  been  transfigured. 

After  this  followed  visions  embodying  the  liistory  of  the 
Church  and  of  the  Empire,  with  an  exhortation  from  Bea- 
trice to  bear  faithful  witness  of  the  things  heard  and  seen  :  — 
and  behold  the  time  was  come  to  drink  of  Eunoe  and  revive 
the  memory  of  good. 

And  more  coruscant  and  with  slower  steps 

The  sun  was  holding  the  meridian  circle, 

Which,  with  the  point  of  view,  shifts  here  and  there, 
When  halted  (as  he  cometh  to  a  halt, 

Who  goes  before  a  squadron  as  its  escort, 

If  something  new  he  find  upon  his  way) 
The  ladies  seven  at  a  dark  shadow's  edge, 

Such  as,  beneath  green  leaves  and  branches  black, 

The  Alp  upon  its  frigid  border  wears. 
In  front  of  them  the  Tigris  and  Euphrates 

Methought  I  saw  forth  issue  from  one  fountain, 

And  slowly  part,  like  friends,  from  one  another. 
4  O  light,  O  glory  of  the  human  race  ! 

What  stream  is  this  which  here  unfolds  itself 

From  out  one  source,  and  from  itself  withdraws  ? ' 
For  such  a  prayer,  't  was  said  unto  me,  *  Pray 

Matilda  that  she  tell  thee  ; '  and  here  answered, 


2OO  Dante  drinks  of  Eunde. 

As  one  does  who  doth  free  himself  from  blame, 
The  beautiful  lady  :  l  This  and  other  things 

Were  told  to  him  by  me  ;  and  sure  I  am 

The  water  of  Lethe  has  not  hid  them  from  him.' 
And  Beatrice  :  '  Perhaps  a  greater  care, 

Which  oftentimes  our  memory  takes  away, 

Has  made  the  vision  of  his  mind  obscure. 
But  Eunoe  behold,  that  yonder  rises  ; 

Lead  him  to  it,  and,  as  thou  art  accustomed, 

Revive  again  the  half-dead  virtue  in  him.' 
Like  gentle  soul,  that  maketh  no  excuse, 

But  makes  its  own  will  of  another's  will  ^ 

As  soon  as  by  a  sign  it  is  disclosed, 
Even  so,  when  she  had  taken  hold  of  me, 

The  beautiful  lady  moved,  and  unto  Statius 

Said,  in  her  womanly  manner,  '  Come  with  him.' 
If,  Reader,  I  possessed  a  longer  space 

For  writing  it,  I  yet  would  sing  in  part 

Of  the  sweet  draught  that  ne'er  would  satiate  me  : 
But  inasmuch  as  full  are  all  the  leaves 

Made  ready  for  this  second  canticle, 

The  curb  of  art  no  farther  lets  me  go. 
From  the  most  holy  water  I  returned 

Regenerate,  in  the  manner  of  new  trees 

That  are  renewed  with  a  new  foliage, 
Pure  and  disposed  to  mount  unto  the  stars. 

xxxin.  103-145. 


CHAPTER  X. 
THE   PARADISE. 

La  forma  general  di  Paradise. 
The  general  form  of  Paradise. 

Par.  xxxi.  52. 

~T)ARADISE  consists,  as  we  have  seen,  of  Nine  Heavens, 
J.  each  a  revolving  hollow  sphere  enclosing  and  en- 
closed, and  of  the  uncontained  Empyrean  which  contains 
thenpua.ll. 

As  star  differeth  from  star  in  glory,  so  Saint  from  Saint. 
Whereof  Dante  has  constructed  a  marvellous  parable  :  —  for 
in  each  successive  Heaven,  as  he  ascends,  Blessed  Souls 
manifest  themselves  visibly  and  audibly  as  denizens,  while 
yet  each  in  very  truth  has  his  immovable  eternal  seat  in 
the  ineffable  Rose  of  the  Empyrean.  And  so  the  lower 
or  higher  place  of  manifestation  serves  for  a  token  whereby 
human  sense  may  apprehend  the  lower  or  higher  degree 
of  that  vision  of  God  which  constitutes  beatitude.  .When 
therefore  Saints)  are  spoken  of  as^dwelling  in  any  Heaven 
belowThe  highest,  .the  statement  must  be  understood  not  of 
real  but  of  apparent  or  representative  abode.  In  aliTKow- 
ever,  beatitude  is  perfect  according  to  the  capacity  of  each  ; 
for  entire  conformity  with  the  Divine  Will  produces  entire 
satisfaction  in  the  appointments  of  that  Will,  and  in  the 
exact  order  resulting  throughout  the  Universe  from  exact 


2O2  The  condition  of  the  Blessed. 


justice  in  the  apportionment  of  rewards.  As  Bellarmine 
illustrates  this  subject  —  if  a  father  clothe  all  his  children  in 
cloth  of  gold,  the  measure  fits  the  growth  of  each,  yet  all 
are  alike  complete  in  covering  and  adornment. 

In  their  apparent  Star-abodes  the  Saints  show  themselves 
swathed  in  cocoons  of  light,  flashing  brighter  with,  each 
accidental  increase  of  joy  or  charity;  in  their  real  Rose- 
seats  the)T  are  seen  without  this  raiment. 

Their  gaze  is  ceaselessly  fixed  on  the  Beatific  Vision,  and 
their  motion  rapid  in  proportion  to  the  vividness  wherewith 
they  apprehend  that  Vision.  Their  knowledge  is  unerring, 
because  they  behold  mirrored  in  God  all  things  meet  for 
them  to  know;  their  speech  is  the  flawless  reflection  of 
that  unerring  knowledge. 

In  Hell,  as  we  have  seen,  the  utmost  possible  perversion 
of  the  Understanding  by  the  Bestialism  or  spiritual  Folly 
of  Unbelief  and  Misbelief  occupies  the  exceptional  transi- 
tional Circle  between  four  upper  and  three  lower  Circles  of 
less  and  of  more  perverted  Will ;  the  frailty  of  Incontinence 
being  above,  the  depravity  of  Malice  below.  In  Heaven 
a  somewhat  similar  arrangement  may  perhaps  be  traced. 
The  utmost  possible  sanctification  of  the  Understanding  by 
the  spiritual  gifts  of  the  Wisdom  and  Knowledge  growing 
out  of  Faith  and  Orthodoxy,  occupies  the  Heaven  of  the 
Sun,  apparently  exceptional  and  transitional  between  three 
lower  and  four  upper  Heavens  of  less  and  ofmore  sanctified 


Will;  the  imperfection  of  Earthliness  being  below,  as  far 
as  Earth's  shadow  extends  to  the  celestial  spheres;  the 
perfection  of  Heavenliness  above,  in  light  unshadowed. 

WTe  will  now  consider  the  special  characteristics  of  each 
Pknet  and  its  denizens. 


Heaven  I.  II.  III.  IV.  V.  VI.  203 

The  First  Heaven,  revolved  by  the  Angels  as  the  lowest 
of  the  Nine  Orders,  is  that  of  the  waxing  and,  waning  Moon, 
and  therefore  of  Wills  imperfect  through  Instability.  Here 
dwell  Nuns  whose  vows  failed  of  entire  fulfilment ;  inas- 
much as,  removed  by  violence  from  the  cloister,  and  bearing 
thereto  a  changeless  persevering  love,  they  yet  braved  not 
all^_evils_4o__xetiirn  thither  so  soon  as  freed  from  bodily 
constraint. 

The  Second  Heaven,  revolved  by  the  Archangels,  is  that 
of  Mercury,  '  more  veiled  from  the  solar  rays  than  is  any 
other  star :  ' 1  the  abode  of  Wills_  imperfect  through_that 
Love  of  Fame  which  half  puts  out  within-  the  soul  the  rays 
oT^he  Love  of  God  even  as  they  dart  upward.  Here  are 
men  of  activity  and  eloquence,  who  used  their  powers  for 
good,  but  not  without  regard  to  the  praise  of  their  fellow- 
creatures. 

TEe  Third  Heaven,  revolved  by  the  Principalities,  is  that 
of  Venus,  now  before  and  now  behind  the  Sun,  and  the  last 
to  which  Earth's  shadow  reaches;  indwelt  by  Wills  im- 
perfect through  excess  of  mere  human  love. 

The  Fourth  and  middle  Planetar}LHea¥eft,  revolved  by  the 
Powers,  is  that  of  the  Sun,  the  chief  material  light,  and 
the  dwelling  of  the  great  spiritu^Laiidjn^dlectuanights,  the 
holy  and  eminent  Doctors  in  Divim>^a.ridPhUQSQr)hy. 

The  Fifth  Heaven,  revolved  by  the  Virtues,  is  that  of 
blood-red  Mars,  the  abode  of  Martyrs,  Confessors,  and 
Warriors  on  behalf  of  the  Faith. 

The  Sixth  Heaven,  revolved  by  the  Dominations,  is  that 
of  Jupiter  brilliantly  white,  inhabited  by  Rulers  eminent  for 
Justice. 

1  Convito  ii.  14. 


2O4     Heaven  VII.  VIILIX.  —  The  Empyrean. 

The  -Seventh  and  last  Planetary  Heaven,  revolved  by  the 
Thrones,  is  the  cold  orbit  of  aturrfit  dwelling  of  those 
Monks  and  Hermits  who, 


rose  to  that  heavenly  Contemplation  whereto  this  star  was 
believed  to  influence  men. 

The  Eighth  or^Starry  Heaven,  revolved  by  the  Cherubim, 
is  that  of  the  ^ixeolStars)  including  of  course  the  constella- 
tions of  the  Zodiac.  Hither  descends  the^  Triumph  of 
Christ,  here  ling^r_the__Apostles  with  the  §aint^>of  the  Old 
and  of  the  New  Testament. 

The  Ninth  or  Starless  Crystalline  Heaven  is  the^Primum 
Mobile,  revolved  by  the  Seraphim;  here  it  is  that  the  Nine 
Orders  of  the  Celestial  Hierarchy  circle  in  fiery  rings  around 
the  Light  Which  no  man  can  approach  unto,  manifested  as 
an  Atomic  Point. 

No  more  of  Time,  no  more  of  Space  :  left  behind  in  the 
Crystalline  Primum  Mobile,  they  have  no  place  in  the  Still 
Fire-  Heaven,  the  Empyrean,  Essential  Light,  Essential 
Love,  possessing  all  things,  and  in  very  contentment  motion- 
less. But  the  Elect  have  place  there,  yea  have  no  place 
save  only  there  ;  Time  and  Space  may  furnish  a  parable  of 
their  condition,  Time  and  Space  can  construct  no  home  for 
their  abode.  Their  home  is  the  mystical  White  Rose  into 
which  they  are  composed  around  the  Lake  of  Divine  Light 
whose  circumference  would  outgird  the  Sun,  and  which 
constitutes  the  central  Yellow  of  this  Flower  ineffable. 
Petals  upon  petals,  petals  upon  petals,  petals  upon  petals  ; 
the  narrowest  circuit  encompasses  the  Sun-outmeasuring 
Lake,  what  should  suffice  to  fill  the  widest?  And  what 
should  be  hidden,  what  withheld  from  the  enthroned  Souls 
that  form  those  petals,  seeing  that  they  gaze  into  the  Very 


The  White  Rose  of  the  Blessed.         205 

Light,  and  that  the  multitude  of  the  Heavenly  Host  as  bees 
deposit  amid  their  recesses  the  Peace  and  Glow  brought 
down  from  the  Bosom  of  God  ?  All  eyes  and  all  love  are 
here  set  one  way,  even  towards  God  Triune. 

The  order  of  the  Rose  includes  both  a  horizontal  and  a 
vertical  division.  The  horizontal  division  takes  place  at 
mid-height,  all  the  Blessed  thence  downwards  having  died 
in  infancy,  all  thence  upwards  at  years  of  discretion. 
Among  the  infants  no  less  than  among  the  adults  there  are 
varying  degrees  of  glory,  corresponding  to  the  varying 
degrees  of  grace  wherewith  Dante  —  arguing  from  the  dif- 
•ference  made  before  birth  between  Jacob  and  Esau  — 
believes  them  to  have  been  endowed.  The  vertical  division 
takes  place  at  two  opposite  points  of  the  circumference, 
the  left  half  of  the  thrones  being  filled  by  those  who 
looked  forward  to  Christ  Coming,  the  right  half  as  yet 
only  partially  occupied  by  those  who  looked  backward  to 
Christ  Come.  On  the  one  side  the  dividing  line  consists 
of  a  chain  of  holy  women,  five  of  those  designated  by 
name  being  ancestresses  of  our  Blessed  Lord :  at  the  top 
of  course  S.  Mary,  under  her  Eve,  then  Rachel,  beside 
whom,  as  we  learned  at  the  beginning  of  the  poem,  is  seated 
Beatrice ;  then  Sarah,  Rebekah,  Judith,  Ruth ;  the  rest  are 
unnamed.  On  the  other  side,  opposite  S.  Mary,  S.  John 
the  Baptist  forms  the  head  of  the  second  dividing  line, 
which  consists  of  holy  Mandriarchs ;  S.  Francis,  S.  Bene- 
dict, S.  Augustine  being  alone  named.  To  the  right  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin  sit  S.  Peter  first,  next  S.  John  the  Evangelist ; 
to  her  left  first  Adam,  next  Mqses.  To  the  left  of  S. 
John  the  Baptist,  opposite  S.  Peter,  is  S.  Anne,  Mother 
of  the  Blessed  Virgin;  to  his  right,  opposite  Adam,  S. 


x  » 

206  The  Alpha  and  Omega. 


Virgin   and   Martyr,    and   the  type  of  Illuminating 
Grace. 

Above  and  beyond  this  there  is  and  can  be  naught  save 
the  Alpha  and_Omega,  Jhe^First  Beginning  and  the  Last 
End  :  the  Ever-  Blessed  Trinity  in  Unity,  Whereinto  is 
taken  for  evermore  the  Glorified  Humanity  of  God  In- 
carnate. 


CHAPTER  XI. 
DANTE'S  PILGRIMAGE  THROUGH  PARADISE. 

Presso  di  lei  e  nel  mondo  felice. 

Close  at  her  side  and  in  the  Happy  World. 

Par.  xxv.  139, 

THE  means  by  which  Dante  was  lifted  from  the  Ter- 
restrial Paradise  into  the  wholly  unearthly  Fire  of 
the  last  Elemental  Sphere,  and  thence  through  each  suc- 
cessive Heaven  (except  one)  even  into  the  Empyrean,  was 
a  fixed  gaze.-into  the  eyes  of  Beatrice ;  and  the  increase  of 
bliss  in  each  ascent  was  typified  by  the  increase  in  the 
beauty  of  her  smile.  For  inasmuch  as  Beatrice  is  the  figure 
of  Divine  Science,  t  in  her  face  appear  things  that  tell  of  the 
pleasures iofj?anidise ;  and  .  .  .  the  place  wherein  this  appears 
.  .  .  is  in  her  eyes  and  her  smile.  And  here  it  should  be 
known  that  the  eyes  of  Wisdom  are  the  two  demonstrations, 
by  which  is  seen  the  truth  most  certainly ;  and  her  smile  is 
her  persuasions,  in  which  is  shown  forth  the  interior  light  of 
Wisdom  under  some  veil :  and  in  these  two  things  is  felt 
that  highest  pleasure  of  beatitude,  which  is  the  greatest 
good  in  Paradise.' l 

The  Sun,  which  rises  on  the  world  through  divers  pas- 

1  Cowvito  iii.  15. 


2o8      The  upper  region  of  the  Fire-Spheres. 

sages,  was  now  in  the  most   favorable  of  all,   that  is,  the 
equinoctial : 

Almost  that  passage  had  made  morning  there 
And  evening  here,  and  there  was  wholly  white 
That  hemisphere,  and  black  the  other  part, 

When  Beatrice  towards  the  left-hand  side 
I  saw  turned  round,  and  gazing  at  the  sun  ; 
Never  did  eagle  fasten  so  upon  it ! 

And  even  as  a  second  ray  is  wont 
To  issue  from  the  first  and  reascend, 
Like  to  a  pilgrim  who  would  fain  return, 

Thus  of  her  action,  through  the  eyes  infused 
In  my  imagination,  mine  I  made, 
And  sunward  fixed  mine  eyes  beyond  our  wont. 

There  much  is  lawful  which  is  here  unlawful 
Unto  our  powers,  by  virtue  of  the  place 
Made  for  the  human  species  as  its  own.1 

Not  long  I  bore  it,  nor  so  little  while 
But  I  beheld  it  sparkle  round  about 
Like  iron  that  comes  molten  from  the  fire ; 

And  suddenly  it  seemed  that  day  to  day 
Was  added,  as  if  He  Who  has  the  power 
Had  with  another  sun  the  heaven  adorned. 

Par.  i.  43-63 

In  that  instant  Dante  had  been  drawn  up  from  the 
Terrestrial  Paradise  into  the  upper  region  of  the  Elemental 
Fire,  where  the  music  of  the  Spheres  soon  burst  upon  his 
ear. 

With  eyes  upon  the  everlasting  wheels 
Stood  Beatrice  all  intent,  and  I,  on  her 
Fixing  my  vision  from  above  removed, 

1  The  Garden  of  Eden. 


The  music  of  the  Spheres.  209 

Such  at  her  aspect  inwardly  became 
As  Glaucus,  tasting  of  the  herb  that  made  him  1 
Peer  of  the  other  gods  beneath  the  sea. 

To  represent  transhumanize  in  words 

Impossible  were  ;  the  example,  then,  suffice 
Him  for  whom  Grace  the  experience  reserves. 

If  I  was  merely  what  of  me  Thou  newly 

Createdst,  Love  Who  governest  the  Heaven, 
Thou  knowest,  Who  didst  lift  me  with  Thy  light ! 

When  now  the  wheel,  which  Thou  dost  make  eternal.2 
Desiring  Thee,  made  me  attentive  to  it 
By  harmony  Thou  dost  modulate  and  measure,2 

Then  seemed  to  me  so  much  of  Heayen  enkindled 
By  the  sun's  flame,  that  neither  rain  nor  river 
E'er  made  a  lake  so  widely  spread  abroad. 

The  newness  of  the  sound  and  the  great  light 
Kindled  in  me  a  longing  for  their  cause, 
Never  before  with  such  acuteness  felt ; 

Whence  she,  who  saw  me  as  I  saw  myself, 
To  quiet  in  me  my  perturbed  mind, 
Opened  her  mouth,  ere  I  did  mine  to  ask, 

And  she  began  :  *  Thou  makest  thyself  so  dull 
With  false  imagining,  that  thou  seest  not 


What  thou  wouldst  see  if  thou  hadst  shaken  it  oflf. 
Thou  art  not  upon  earth,  as  thou  believest ; 
But  lightning,  fleeing  its  appropriate  site, 

1  Glaucus  was  a  fisherman,  who  seeing  some  fish  caught  by  him 
revive  on  touching  the  salt-meadow-grass  growing  on  the  shore,  ate 
of  the  same  herb  and  so  became  a  sea-god. 

2  '  According  to  Plato  the  Heavens  ever  move  seeking  the  Soul  of 
the  World,  and  desirous  to  find  it;  that  Soul  is  God.'     (Fraticelli  in 
loc.)    The  sense  of  these  lines  is  :  When  now  the  heavenly  revolution, 
which  Thou,  O  Love,  dost  render  perpetual  through  the  desire  Thou 
infusest  for  Thyself,  attracted  my  attention  by  its  harmony  —  i.e  the 
music  of  the  Spheres. 


2io  Man,  like  Fire,  tends  upward. 

Ne'er  ran  as  thou,  who  thitherward  returnest.' 

If  of  my  former  doubt  I  was  divested 

By  these  brief  little  words  more  smiled  than  spoken, 
I  in  a  new  one  was  the  more  ensnared  ; 

And  said  :   '  Already  did  I  rest  content 

From  great  amazement ;  but  am  now  amazed 
In  what  way  I  transcend  these  bodies  light.' 

Whereupon  she,  after  a  pitying  sigh, 

Her  eyes  directed  tow'rds  me  with  that  look 
A  mother  casts  on  a  delirious  child  ; 

And  she  began  :  '  All  things  whate'er  they  be 
Have  order  among  themselves,  and  this  is  form, 
That  makes  the  universe  resemble  God. 

The  Providence  that  regulates  all  this 

Makes  with  Its  light  the  Heaven  forever  quiet, 
Wherein  that  turns  which  has  the  greatest  haste. 

And  thither  now,  as  to  a  site  decreed, 
Bears  us  away  the  virtue  of  that  cord 
Which  aims  its  arrows  at  a  joyous  mark. 

True  is  it,  that  as  oftentimes  the  form 
Accords  not  with  the  intention  of  the  art, 
Because  in  answering  is  matter  deaf, 

So  likewise  from  this  course  doth  deviate 

Sometimes  the  creature,  who  the  power  possesses, 
Though  thus  impelled,  to  swerve  some  other  way, 

(In  the  same  wise  as  one  may  see  the  fire 
Fall  from  a  cloud,)  if  the  first  impetus 
Earthward  is  wrested  by  some  false  delight. 

Thou  shouldst  not  wonder  more,  if  well  I  judge, 
At  thine  ascent,  than  at  a  rivulet 
From  some  high  mount  descending  to  the  lowland. 

Marvel  it  would  be  in  thee,  if  deprived 

Of  hindrance,  thou  wert  seated  down  below, 


The  Moon.  211 


As  if  on  earth  the  living  fire  were  quiet.' 
Thereat  she  heavenward  turned  again  her  face. 

i.  64-105,  121-142. 

For  the  Elemental  Fire  is  no  abode  of  glorified  Spirits ; 
and  therefore 

The  con-created  and  perpetual  thirst 
For  the  realm  deiform  did  bear  us  on, 
As  swift  almost  as  ye  the  Heavens  behold. 

Upward  gazed  Beatrice,  and  I  at  her ; 
And  in  such  space  perchance  as  strikes  a  bolt 
And  flies,  and  from  the  notch  unlocks  itself, 

Arrived  I  saw  me  where  a  wondrous  thing 
Drew  to  itself  my  sight ;  and  therefore  she 
From  whom  no  care  of  mine  could  be  concealed, 

Towards  me  turning,  blithe  as  beautiful, 
Said  unto  me  :  '  Fix  gratefully  thy  mind 
On  God,  Who  unto  the  first  star1  has  brought  us.' 

It  seemed  to  me  a  cloud  encompassed  us, 
Luminous,  dense,  consolidate  and  bright 
As  adamant  on  which  the  sun  is  striking. 

Into  itself  did  the  eternal  pearl l 
Receive  us,  even  as  water  doth  receive 
A  ray  of  light,  remaining  still  unbroken. 

If  I  was  body  (and  we  here  conceive  not 
How  one  dimension  tolerates  another, 
Which  needs  must  be  if  body  enter  body), 

More  the  desire  should  be  enkindled  in  us 
That  Essence  to  behold,  Wherein  is  seen  2 

1  The  Moon. 

2  If  I  was  in  the  body  (a  thing  wholly  incomprehensible  to  us  on 
earth,  inasmuch  as  we  cannot  conceive  of  one  physical  dimension  en- 
during the  insertion  of  another  and  yet  remaining  unchanged,  which 
needs  must  have  been  if  my  body  had  entered  within  the  Moon's  body), 


2 1 2  The  Blessed  in  the  Mccn. 

How  God  and  our  own  nature  were  united. 

There  will  be  seen  what  we  receive  by  faith, 
Not  demonstrated,  but  self-evident 
In  guise  of  the  first  truth  that  man  believes. 

I  made  reply  :   '  Madonna,  as  devoutly 
As  most  I  can  do  I  give  thanks  to  Him 
Who  has  removed  me  from  the  mortal  world.' 

H.  19-48. 

Dante  then  inquired  respecting  the  Moon's  spots,  and  was 
answered  that  they  are  the  diverse  effect  of  the  Divine  virtue 
infused  through  the  Angelic  Movers  of  the  First  Heaven. 
He  was  about  to  confess  himself  convinced  of  the  erroneous 
nature  of  his  previous  theories  on  this  subject  — 

But  there  appeared  a  vision^  which  withdrew  me 
So  close  to  it,  in  order  to  be  seen, 
That  my  confession  I  remembered  not. 

Such  as  through  polished  and  transparent  glass, 
Or  waters  crystalline  and  undisturbed, 
But  not  so  deep  as  that  their  bed  be  lost, 

Come  back  again  the  outlines  of  our  faces 
So  feeble,  that  a  pearl  on  forehead  white 
Comes  not  less  speedily  unto  our  eyes  ; 

Such  saw  I  many  faces  prompt  to  speak, 
So  that  I  faTrnTerror  opposite 
To  that  which  kindled  love  'twixt  man  and  fountain  1 

As  soon  as  I  became  aware  of  them, 

Esteeming  them  as  mirrored  semblances, 

then  so  great  and  blessed  a  marvel  as  a  human  bodily  presence  in 
Heaven  ought  the  more  to  enkindle  in  us  the  desire  to  behold  that 
Essence  of  our  Incarnate  Lord,  Wherein,  etc. 

1  Narcissus  took  a  reflected  for  a  real  face,  Dante  took  real  faces  for 
reflected. 


Pic  car  da  de  Donati. 


To  see  of  whom  they  were,  mine  eyes  I  turned, 
And  nothing  saw,  and  once  more  turned  them  forward 
Direct  into  the  light  of  my  sweet  Guide, 
Who  smiling  kindled  in  her  holy  eyes. 

*  Marvel  thou  not,'  she  said  to  me,  'because 

I  smile  at  this  thvjmerile  conceit. 

Since  on  the  truth  it  trusts  not  yet  jts  foot, 

But  turns  thee,  as  't  is  wont,  on  emptiness. 

True  substances  are  these  which  thou  beholdest, 
Here  relegate  for  breaking  of  some  vow. 

Th prpfnrp_sppak  with  tl^rp^Jisten  and  believer 
For  the  True  Light,  which  giveth  peace  to  them, 
Permits  them  not  to  turn  from  It  their  feet.' 

*And  I  unto  the  Shade  that  seemed  most  wishful 
To  speak  directed  me,  and  I  began, 
As  one  whom  too  great  eagerness  bewilders  : 

*  O  well-created  Spirit,  who  in  the  rays 

Of  life  eternal  dost  the  sweetness  taste 
Which  being  untasted  ne'er  is  comprehended, 

Grateful 't  will  be  to  me,  if  thou  content  me 
Both  with  thy  name  and  with  your  destiny.' 
Whereat  she  promptly  and  with  laughing  eyes  : 

'  Our  charity  doth  never  shut  the  doors 
Against  a  just  desire,  except  as  One  l 
Who  wills  that  all  her  court  be  like  herself. 

I  was  a  virgin  sister  in  the  world  ; 
And  if  thy  mind  doth  contemplate  me  well, 
The  being  more  fair  will  not  conceal  me  from  thee, 

But  thou  sjijiJjLxegpgnize  I  am  Picxarda1 

Who,  stationed  here  among  these  other  blessed, 
Myself  am  blessed  in  the  slowest  sphere.' 

in.  7- 

1  The  Blessed  Virgin. 


Each  content  with  his  place  in  Heaven. 

Piccarda  was  the  sister  of  Dante's  wife  Gemma  de' 
Donati,  and  of  thatForese,  whom  in  Purgatory  we  saw 
expiating  the  sin  of  Gluttonyxy  She  continued  : 

'  All  our  affections,  that  alone  inflamed 

Are  in  the  pleasure  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 

Rejoice  at  being  of  His  order  formed  ;  2 
And  this  allotment,  which  appears  so  low, 

Therefore  is  given  us,  because  our  vows  ^ 

Have  been  neglected  and  in  some  part  void.' 
Whence  I  to  her:  « In  your  miraculous  aspects 

There  shines  I  know  not  what  of  the  divine, 

Which  doth  transform  you  from  our  first  conceptions. 
Therefore  I  was  not  swift  in  my  remembrance  ;  • 

But  what  thou  tellest  me  now  aids  me  so, 

That  the  refiguring  is  easier  to  me. 
But  tell  me,  ye  who  injthis  place  are  happy, 

Are  you  desirous  of  a  higher  place, 

To  see  more  or  to  make  yourselves  more  friends  ??  3 
First  with  those  other  Shades  she  smiled  a  little ; 

Thereafter  answered  me  so  full  of  gladness, 

She  seemed  to  burn  in  the  first  fire  of  love : 

t 

'  Brother,  our  will  is  quieted  by  virtue. 
Of  charity,  that  makes  us  wish  alone 
Eorjthat  we  have,  nor-gives  us  jhirst  forjnore. 

If  to  be  more  exalted  we  aspired, 
Discordant  would  our  aspirations  be 
Unto  the  will  of  Him  Who  here  secludes  us ; 

Which  thou  shall  see  finds  no  place  in  these  circles, 
If  being  in  charity  is  jieedful  here, 
And  if  thou  lookest  well  into  its  nature  ; 

Nay,  't  is  essential  to  this  blest  existence 

>ee  page  173.  2  Professed  nuns  of  His  order. 

More  the  friends  of  God. 


Piccardak  'his 


2  i  5 


To  keep  itself  within  the  Will  Divine, 
Wliereby  our  very  wishes  are  made  one; 

So  that,  as  we  are  station  above  station 

Throughout  this  realm,  to  all  the  realm  't  is  pleasing, 
As  to  the  King,  who  makes  His  Will  our  will. 

AndJIis_WniJs_our  peace  ;  this  is  the  sea 
To  which  is  moving"  oh  ward  whatsoever 
It  doth  create,  and  all  that  nature  makes.' 

Then  it  was  clear  to  me  how  everywhere 
In  Heaven  is  Paradise,  although  the  grace 
Of  good  supreme  there  rain  not  in  one  measure. 

But  as  it  comes  to  pass,  if  one  food  sates, 
And  for  another  still  remains  the  longing, 
We  ask  for  this,  and  that  decline  with  thanks, 

E'en  thus  did  I,  with  gesture  and  with  word, 
To  learn  from  her  what  was  the  web  wherein 
She  did  not  ply  the  shuttle  to  the  end. 

'  A  perfect  life  and  merit  high  in-heaven 
A  lady  l  o'er  us,'  said  she,  *  by  whose  rule 
Down  in  your  world  they  vest  and  veil  themselves, 

That  until  death  they  may  both  watch  and  sleep 
Beside  that  Spouse  Who  every  vow  accepts 
Which  charity  conformeth  to  His  pleasure. 

To  follow  her,  in  girlhood  from  the  world 

f  —  —  --  -  •        --        __ 

I  fled,  and  in  her  habit  shut  myself, 
And  pledged  me  to  the  pathway  of  her  sect. 
Then  men  accustomed  unto  evil  more 

Than  unto  good,  from  the  sweet  cloister  tore  me  ; 
God  knows  what  afterward  my  life  became.' 

in.  52-108. 

Her  brother  ^Gorso  had  forced  Piccarda  away  from  her 
cloister,  and  married  her  to  Rosselin  della  Tosa;  she  sur- 
vived the.  marriage  only  a  few  months.  She  went  on  : 

1  S.  Clara,  foundress  of  the  Poor  Clares. 


2 1 6  The  Empress  Constance. 

'This  other  Splendor,  which  to  thee  reveals 
Itself  on  my  right  side,  and  is  enkindled 
With  all  the  illumination  of  our  sphere, 

What  of  myself  I  say  applies  to  her  ; 

A  nun  was  she,  and  likewise  from  her  head 
Was  ta'en  the  shadow  of  the  sacred  wimple. 

But  when  she  too  was  to  the  world  returned 
Against  her  wishes  and  against  good  usage, 
Of  the  heart's  veil  she  never  was  divested. 

Of  great  Costanza  this  is  the  effulgence, 
Who  from  the  second  wind  of  Suabia 
Brought  forth  the  third  and  latest  puissance.' 

in.  109-120. 

Constance  was  the  daughter  of  Roger  I.,  King  of  Naples 
and  Sicily,  who  was  succeeded  immediately  by  his  son 
William  the  Bad,  next  by  his  grandson  William  the  Good. 
This  last  reigned  but  a  very  short  time ;  and  as  his  early 
childless  death  was  foreseen,  Constance,  his  aunt  and  sole 
heiress,  was  taken,  say  various  ancient  but  not  uncontra- 
dicted  historians,1  from  her  convent  at  Palermo,  and  com- 
pelled to  marry  Henry  VI.,  son  of  the  Emperor  Frederick 
Barbarossa  of  Suabia,  and  father  by  her  of  Frederick  II.,  in 
his  turn  father  of  the  Manfred  who  in  Purgatory  styled 
himself  Constance's  grandson.2 

Thus  unto  me  she  spake  and  then  began 
*  Ave  Maria  '  singing,  and  in  singing 
Vanished,  as  through  deep  water  something  heavy. 

My  sight,  that  followed  her  as  long  a  time 
As  it  was  possible,  when  it  had  lost  her 
Turned  round  unto  the  mark  of  more  desire, 

And  wholly  unto  Beatrice  reverted  ; 

1  Fraticelli  in  Joe.  (j^See  page  128. 


The  true  abode  of  the  Blessed.  2 1 7 

But  she  such  lightnings  flashed  into  mine  eyes, 
That  at  the  first  my  sight  endured  it  not ; 
And  this  in  questioning  more  backward  made  me. 

in.  121-130. 

Dante  had  two  questions  to  ask :  the  one,  suggested  by 
what  he  had  seen,  was  concerning  the  abode  of  the  Blessed ; 
appearances  seeming  to  justify  Plato's  hypothesis  of  the 
return  of  disembodied  souls  to  the  stars.  Beatrice,  discern- 
ing in  his  mind  this  unexpressed  doubt,  thus  solved  it : 

'  He  of  the  Seraphim  most  absorbed  in  God, 

Moses,  and  Samuel,  and  whichever  John 

Thou  mayst  select,  I  say,  and  even  Mary, 
Have  not  in  any  other  Heaven  their  seats, 

Than  have  those  Spirits  that  just  appeared  to  thee, 

Nor  of  existence  more  or  fewer  years  ; 
But  all  make  beautiful  the  primal  circle, 

And  have  sweet  life  in  different  degrees, 

By  feeling  more  or  less  the  eternal  Breath. 
They  showed  themselves  here,  not  because  allotted 

This  sphere  has  been  to  them,  but  to  give  sign 

Of  the  celestial  which  is  least  exalted. 
To  speak  thus  is  adapted  to  your  rnind, 

Since  only  through  the  sense  it  apprehendeth 

What  then  it  worthy  makes  of  intellect. 
On  this  account  the  Scripture  condescends 

Unto  your  faculties,  and  feet  and  hands 

To  God  attributes,  and  means  something  else  ; 
And  Holy  Church  under  an  aspect  human 

Gabriel  and  Michael  represents  to  you, 

And  him  who  made  Tobias  whole  again.' 

IV.  28-48. 

Dante's  second  question,  suggested  by  what  he  had  heard, 
was  —  ho\v  violence  suffered  at  the  hands  of  another  can 


2 1 8  Wherein  Violence  consists. 

lessen  the  merit  of  one  whose  good-will  endures  unchanged. 
Beatrice  replied  by  explaining  the  distinction  between 
absolute  and  relative  will: 

*  That  as  unjust  our  justice  should  appear 

In  eyes  of  mortals,  is  an  argument 

Of  faith,  and  not  of  sin  heretical.1 
But  still,  that  your  perception  may  be  able 

To  thoroughly  penetrate  this  verity, 

As  thou  desirest,  I  will  satisfy  thee. 
If  it  be  violence  when  he  who  suffers 

Co-operates  not  with  him  who  uses  force, 

These  Souls  were  not  on  that  account  excused  ; 
For  will  is  never  quenched  unless  it  will, 

But  operates  as  nature  doth  in  fire, 

If  violence  a  thousand  times  distort  it. 
Hence,  if  it  yieldeth  more  or  less,  it  seconds 

The  force  ;  2  and  these  have  done  so,  having  power 

Of  turning  back  unto  the  holy  place. 
If  their  will  had  been  perfect,  like  to  that 

Which  Lawrence  fast  upon  his  gridiron  held, 

And  Mutius  made  severe  to  his  own  hand, 
It  would  have  urged  them  back  along  the  road 

Whence  they  were  dragged  as  soon  as  they  were  free  ; 

But  such  a  solid  will  is  all  too  rare. 

1  That  heavenly  Justice  should  appear  unjust  in  the  eyes  of  mortals 
is  a  reason  why  they  should  exercise  faith,  not  why  they  should  fall 
into  heresy. 

2  If  that  only  be  properly  called  an  act  of  violence  in  which  he  who 
is  forced  co-operates  not  in  the  least  degree  with  him  who  forces,  these 
Souls  cannot  be  excused  as  having  suffered  violence.     For  Will  never 
can  be  quenched  except  by  its  own  consent ;  even  as  fire,  after  endur- 
ing a  thousand  attempts  to  make  it  burn  downward,  invariably  burns 
upward  the  moment  it  is  left  to  itself.     If  then,  bodily  force  ceasing, 
the  Will  still  yields  more  or  less,  it  does  co-operate  with  that  force  ; 
and  these,  etc. 


Of  Will  absolute  and  relative.          2 1 9 

And  by  these  words,  if  thou  hast  gathered  them 

As  thou  shouldst  do,  the  argument  is  refuted 

That  would  have  still  annoyed  thee  many  times. 
But  now  another  passage  runs  across 

Before  thine  eyes,  and  such  that  by  thyself 

Thou  couldst  not  thread  it  ere  thou  wouldst  be  weary. 
I  have  for  certain  put  into  thy  mind 

That  Soul  beatified  could  never  lie, 

For  it  is  ever  near  the  primal  Truth, 
And  then  thou  from  Piccarda  mightst  have  heard 

Costanza  kept  affection  for  the  veil, 

So  that  she  seemeth  here  to  contradict  me. 
Many  times,  brother,  has  it  come  to  pass, 

That,  to  escape  from  peril,  with  reluctance 

That  has  been  done  it  was  not  right  to  do, 
E'en  as  Alcmaeon  (who,  being  by  his  father 

Thereto  entreated,  his  own  mother  slew) 

Not  to  lose  pity  pitiless  became.1 
At  this  point  I  desire  thee  to  remember 

That  force  with  will  commingles,  and  they  cause 

That  the  offences  cannot  be  excused. 
Will  absolute  consenteth  not  to  evil ; 

But  in  so  far  consenteth  as  it  fears, 

If  it  refrain,  to  fall  into  more  harm. 
Hence  when  Piccarda  uses  this  expression, 

She  meaneth  the  will  absolute,  and  I 

The  other,  so  that  both  of  us  speak  truth.' 
Sudh  was  the  flowing  of  the  holy  river 

That  issued  from  the  fount  whence  springs  all  truth  : 

This  put  to  rest  my  wishes  one  and  all. 
'  O  love  of  the  first  Lover,  O  divine,' 

Said  I  forthwith,  '  whose  speech  inundates  me 

1  '  Not  to  lose  piety  '  is  the  sense  ;  but  then  the  play  on  pietb  =  piety 
and /*'#/,  would  be  lost.     See  also  Note  i,  p.  150. 


220     Of  Truth  and  Doubt.—  Of  Free  Will. 

And  warms  me  so,  it  more  and  more  revives  me, 
My  own  affection  is  not  so  profound 

As  to  suffice  in  rendering  grace  for  grace  ; 

Let  Him,  who  sees  and  can,  thereto  respond. 
Well  I  perceive  that  never  sated  is 

Our  intellect  unless  the  Truth  illume  it, 

Beyond  which  nothing  true  expands  itself. 
It  rests  therein,  as  wild  beast  in  his  lair, 

When  it  attains  It ;  and  it  can  attain  It ; 

If  not,  then  each  desire  would  frustrate  be. 
Therefore  springs  up,  in  fashion  of  a  shoot, 

Doubt  at  the  foot  of  truth  ;  and  this  is  nature, 

Which  to  the  top  from  height  to  height  impels  us.1 
This  doth  invite  me,  this  assurance  give  me 

With  reverence,  Lady,  to  inquire  of  you 

Another  truth,  which  is  obscure  to  me. 
I  wish  to  know  if  man  can  satisfy  you 

For  broken  vows  with  other  good  deeds,  so 

That  in  your  balance  they  will  not  be  light.' 

iv.  67-138. 

The  answer  was : 

*  The  greatest  gift  that  in  His  largess  God 
Creating  made,  and  unto  His  own  goodness 
Nearest  conformed,  and  that  which  He  doth  prize 

Most  highly,  is  the  freedom  of  the  will, 
Wherewith  the  creatures  of  intelligence 

1  Well  do  I  see  that  our  intellect  can  never  be  fully  satisfied,  except 
it  be  irradiated  by  that  Truth  which  Itself  so  includes  all  truth  that 
aught  outside  It  is  not  truth,  but  falsehood.  In  the  aforesaid  Truth 
our  intellect  rests  as  a  wild  beast  in  his  lair,  so  soon  as  it  has  attained 
thereto ;  and  thereto  it  is  able  to  attain,  else  would  its  every  desire  be 
frustrate.  Therefore  at  the  foot  of  every  ascertained  truth  there  ever 
springs  a  shoot  of  doubt  concerning  some  further  truth  ;  such  is  man's 
nature,  impelling  him  from  peak  to  peak  even  to  the  summit. 


Vv1- 

Vv'         ~.  i  . 

Concerning  Vows. 

Both  all  and  only  were  and  are  endowed.1 
Now  wilt  thou  see,  if  thence  thou  reasonest, 
The  high  worth  of  a  vow,  if  it  be  made 
So  that  when  thou  consentest  God  consents  ; 2 
For,  closing  between  God  and  man  the  compact, 
A  sacrifice  is  of  this  treasure  made, 
Such  as  I  say,  and  made  by  its  own  act. 
What  can  be  rendered  then  as  compensation  ? 

Think'st  thou  to  make  good  use  of  what  thou  'st  offered, 
With  gains  ill  gotten  thou  wouldst  do  good  deed.' 

v.  19-33- 

Nevertheless,  the  essence  of  a  vow  being  the  binding  of 
the  will  rather  than  the  particular  point  wherein  it  is  bound, 
Holy  Church  has  a  dispensing  power  to  which  recourse  may 
lawfully  be  had  on  just  occasion  :  — 

'  But  let  none  shift  the  burden  on  his  shoulder 
At  his  arbitrament,  without  the  turning 
Both  of  the  white  and  of  the  yellow  key  ; 

And  every  permutation  deem  as  foolish, 
If  in  the  substitute  the  thing  relinquished," 
As  the  four  is  in  six,  be  not  contained. 

Therefore  whatever  thing  has  so  great  weight 
In  value  that  it  drags  down  every  balance, 
Cannot  be  satisfied  with  other  spending.'  8 

v.  55-63. 

But  from  all  this  it  obviously  follows  that  vows  must  not  be 
lightly  made. 

And  then  Beatrice  with  her  neophyte  passed  into  Mercury, 

1  All  rational  creatures,  and  none  but  rational  creatures,  are  endowed 
with  free  will. 

2  So  that  it  be  made  according  to  the  known  Will  of  God. 
8  Cannot  be  made  up  for  by  any  other  offering. 


222      The  Blessed  in  Mercury.  —  Justinian 

where  shine  the  Spirits  of  men  eloquent  and  active  in  good, 
but  not  free  from  the  love  of  fame.  Here  Dante  con- ! 
versed  at  great  length  with  the  .Emperor  Justinian,  who 
traced  out  the  progress  and  achievements  of  the  Roman 
Eagle  from  the  days  of  ^Eneas  to  those  of  Augustus,  and 
added : 

4  But  what  the  standard  that  has  made  me  speak 
Achieved  before,  and  after  should  achieve 
Throughout  the  mortal  realm  that  lies  beneath  it, 

Becometh  in  appearance  mean  and  dim, 
If  in  the  hand  of  the  third  Caesar  seen 
With  eye  unclouded  and  affection  pure, 

Because  the  living  Justice  that  inspires  me 
Granted  it,  in  the  hand  of  him  I  speak  of, 
The  glory  of  doing  vengeance  for  its  wrath. 

Now  here  attend  to  what  I  answer  thee  ; 
Later  it  ran  with  Titus  to  do  vengeance 
Upon  the  vengeance  of  the  ancient  sin.' 

vi.  82-93. 

*  The  vengeance  of  the  ancient  sin '  is  the  Death  of  our 
Blessed  Lord  as  the  atoning  Victim  for  the  entire  race  of 
man.  That  in  any  view  of  this  most  awful  subject  the 
human  instrumentality  whereby  that  precious  Death  was 
effected  should  be  regarded  otherwise  than  as  the  uttermost 
stretch  of  wickedness,  seems  to  us  no  less  blasphemous  than 
inconceivable ;  yet  it  is  the  loving  and  reverent  Dante  who 
writes  of  such  instrumentality  as  '  the  glory  '  of  '  the  Third 
Caesar '  Tiberius.  The  whole  passage  is  incomprehensible 
till  read  in  the  light  of  the  elaborate  argument  whereby,  in 
the  treatise  De  Monarchid,  Rome  is  professedly  demonstrated 
to  be  by  Divine  right  the  centre  of  empire  over  the  whole 


treats  of  various  matters.  223 

terrestrial  globe.  The  crowning  proofs  adduced  are  two. 
First,  our  Saviour's  having  implicitly  approved  Augustus' 
claim  of  world-wide  sovereignty,  by  willing  to  be  so  born  as 
to  be  registered  his  subject.  Secondly,  the  Divine  accept- 
ance of  the  Crucifixion  as  a  punishment  making  satisfaction 
for  the  sins  of  all  mankind ;  which  it  could  not  have  been 
if  inflicted  by  any  one  save  the  ordinary  judge,  or  by  any 
ordinary  judge  not  having  jurisdiction  over  all  mankind.1 
By  us,  of  course,  the  conclusion  is  only  less  inadmissible 
than  the  argument.  But  we  probably  have  here  the  key  to 
a  perplexing  problem  —  why  Pontius  Pilate  is  nowhere  met 
with  in  Hell. 

After  glancing  at  Charlemagne,  Justinian  went  on  severely 
to  reprehend  the  ill-doing  both  of  Guelphs  and  Ghibellines, 
and  then  set  forth  the  condition  of  himself  and  his  com- 
panions : 

'  This  little  planet  doth  adorn  itself 
With  the  good  Spirits  that  have  active  been, 
That  fame  and  honor  might  come  after  them  ; 

And  whensoever  the  desires  mount  thither, 
Thus  deviating,  must  perforce  the  rays 
Of  the  true  love  less  vividly  mount  upward. 

But  in  commensuration  of  our  wages 

<  With  our  desert  is  portion  of  our  joy, 
Because  we  see  them  neither  less  nor  greater. 

Herein  doth  living  Justice  sweeten  so 
•  Affection  in  us,  that  for  evermore 

It  cannot  warp  to  any  iniquity. 

Voices  diverse  make  up  sweet  melodies ; 
So  in  this  life  of  ours  the  seats  diverse 
Render  sweet  harmony  among  these  spheres  ; 

1  De  MonarchiA,  ii.  10,  n. 


224  Romeo. 


And  in  the  compass  of  this  present  pearl 
Shineth  the  sheen  of  Romeo,  of  whom 
The  grand  and  beauteous  work  was  ill  rewarded. 

But  the  Provencals  who  against  him  wrought, 
They  have  not  laughed,  and  therefore  ill  goes  he 
Who  makes  his  hurt  of  the  good  deeds  of  others. 

Four  daughters,  and  each  one  of  them  a  queen, 
Had  Raymond  Berenger,  and  this  for  him 
Did  Romeo,  a  poor  man  and  a  pilgrim ; 

And  then  malicious  words  incited  him 
To  summon  to  a  reckoning  this  just  man, 
Who  rendered  to  him  seven  and  five  for  ten. 

Then  he  departed  poor  and  stricken  in  years, 
And  if  the  world  could  know  the  heart  he  had, 
In  begging  bit  by  bit  his  livelihood, 

Though  much  it  laud  him,  it  would  laud  him  more.' 

vi.  112-142. 

He  who  is  here  called  Romeo  (probably  not  a  proper 
name,  but  a  term  equivalent  to  f  pilgrim  to  Rome  ' J),  arriv- 
ing a  stranger  at  the  court  of  Raymond  Berenger  Count  of 
Provence,  became  his  trusted  seneschal,  tripled  his  income 
while  maintaining  his  grandeur,  and  contrived  the  brilliant 
marriages  of  his  four  daughters  —  Margaret  to  S.  Louis  of 
France,  Eleanor  to  Henry  III.  of  England,  Sanctia  to  Richard 
Earl  of  Cornwall  elected  King  of  the  Romans,  Beatrice  to 
Charles  Count  of  Anjou,  afterwards  by  Papal  investiture 
King  of  Naples.  The  sequel  is  but  too  clear. 

The  Saints  vanished  with  singing;  and  Beatrice  discern- 
ing in  Dante's  mind  a  perplexity  arising  from  Justinian's 
words  respecting  that  vengeance  on  Jerusalem  whereof 
Titus  was  the  minister,  proceeded  thus  to  instruct  him  : 

1    Vita  Nuova  xli. 


Of  the  Incarnation  and  the  Cross.       225 

'  According  to  infallible  advisement, 

After  what  manner  a  just  vengeance  justly 

Could  be  avenged  has  put  thee  upon  thinking, 
But  I  will  speedily  thy  mind  unloose  ; 

And  do  thou  listen,  for  these  words  of  mine 

Of  a  great  doctrine  will  a  present  make  thee. 
By  not  enduring  on  the  power  that  wills 

Curb  for  his  good,  that  man  who  ne'er  was  born, 

Damning  himself  damned  all  his  progeny  ; 
Whereby  the  human  species  down  below 

Lay  sick  for  many  centuries  in  great  error, 

Till  to  descend  it  pleased  the  Word  of  God 
To  where  the  nature,  which  from  its  own  Maker 

Estranged  itself,  He  joined  to  Him  in  person, 

By  the  sole  act  of  His  eternal  love. 
Now  unto  what  is  said  direct  thy  sight ; 

This  nature  when  united  to  its  Maker, 

Such  as  created,  was  sincere  and  good ; 
But  by  itself  alone  was  banished  forth 

From  Paradise,  because  it  turned  aside 

Out  of  the  way  of  truth  and  of  its  life. 
Therefore  the  penalty  the  cross  held  out, 

If  measured  by  the  nature  thus  assumed, 

None  ever  yet  with  so  great  justice  stung, 
And  none  was  ever  of  so  great  injustice, 

Considering  Who  the  Person  was  that  suffered, 

Within  Whom  such  a  nature  was  contracted. 
From  one  act  therefore  issued  things  diverse ; 

To  God  and  to  the  Jews  one  Death  was  pleasing ; 

Earth  trembled  at  it  and  the  Heaven  was  opened. 
It  should  no  longer  now  seem  difficult 

To  thee,  when  it  is  said  that  a  just  vengeance 

By  a  just  court  was  afterward  avenged. 
But  now  do  I  behold  thy  mind  entangled 


226      Of  Man  before  and  after  the  Fall. 

From  thought  to  thought  within  a  knot,  from  which 

With  great  desire  it  waits  to  free  itself. 
Thou  sayest,  "Well  discern  I  what  I  hear ; 

But  it  is  hidden  from  me  why  God  willed 

For  our  redemption  only  this  one  mode." 
Buried  remaineth,  brother,  this  decree 

Unto  the  eyes  of  every  one  whose  nature 

Is  in  the  flame  of  love  not  yet  adult. 
Verily,  inasmuch  as  at  this  mark 

One  gazes  long  and  little  is  discerned, 

Wherefore  this  mode  was  worthiest  will  I  say. 
Goodness  Divine,  which  from  Itself  doth  spurn 

All  envy,  burning  in  Itself  so  sparkles 

That  the  eternal  beauties  It  unfolds.1 
Whate'er  from  This  immediately  distils 

Has  afterwards  no  end,  for  ne'er  removed 

Is  Its  impression  when  It  sets  Its  seal. 
Whate'er  from  This  immediately  rains  down 

Is  wholly  free,  because  it  is  not  subject 

Unto  the  influences  of  novel  things. 
The  more  conformed  thereto,  the  more  it  pleases ; 

For  the  blest  Ardor  that  irradiates  all  things 

In  that  most  like  Itself  is  most  vivacious. 
With  all  of  these  things  has  advantaged  been 

The  human  creature  ;  and  if  one  be  wanting, 

From  his  nobility  he  needs  must  fall. 
*T  is  sin  alone  which  doth  disfranchise  him, 

And  render  him  unlike  the  Good  Supreme,2 

So  that  he  little  with  Its  light  is  blanched,3 

1  The  Divine  Goodness,  wholly  free  from  aught  that  is  contrary  to 
charity,  in  the  ardor  of  Its  own  Love  so  sparkles  as  to  take  pleasure  in 
manifesting  and  communicating  Its  Eternal  Beauty. 

2  See  pp.  13,  14,  '  All  creatures,'  etc. 
*  Irradiated. 


Of  God^s  two  ways  in  Redemption,      227 

And  to  his  dignity  no  more  returns, 

Unless  he  fill  up  where  transgression  empties 

With  righteous  pains  for  criminal  delights. 
Your  nature  when  it  sinned  so  utterly 

In  its  own  seed,  out  of  these  dignities 

Even  as  out  of  Paradise  was  driven, 
Nor  could  itself  recover,  if  thou  notest 

With  nicest  subtilty,  by  any  way, 

Except  by  passing  one  of  these  two  fords  : 
Either  that  God  through  clemency  alone 

Had  pardon  granted,  or  that  man  himself 

Had  satisfaction  for  his  folly  made. 
Fix  now  thine  eye  deep  into  the  abyss 

Of  the  eternal  counsel,  to  my  speech 

As  far  as  may  be  fastened  steadfastly ! 
Man  in  his  limitations  had  not  power 

To  satisfy,  not  having  power  to  sink 

In  his  humility  obeying  then, 
Far  as  he  disobeying  thought  to  rise ; 

And  for  this  reason  man  has  been  from  power 

Of  satisfying  by  himself  excluded. 
Therefore  it  God  behooved  in  His  own  ways 1 

Man  to  restore  unto  his  perfect  life, 

I  say  in  one,  or  else  in  both  of  them. 
But  since  the  action  of  the  doer  is 

So  much  more  grateful,  as  it  more  presents 

The  goodness  of  the  heart  from  which  it  issues, 
Goodness  Divine,  that  doth  imprint  the  world, 

Has  been  contented  to  proceed  by  each 

And  all  Its  ways  to  lift  you  up  again  ; 
Nor  'twixt  the.  first  day  and  the  final  night 

Such  high  and  such  magnificent  proceeding 

By  one  or  by  the  other  was  or  shall  be ; 

1  Mercy  and  Justice. 


228      The  Blessed  in  Venus.  — Charles  Martel 

For  God  more  bounteous  was  Himself  to  give 
To  make  man  able  to  uplift  himself, 
Than  if  He  only  of  Himself  had  pardoned; 

And  all  the  other  modes  were  insufficient 
For  justice,  were  it  not  the  Son  of  God 
Himself  had  humbled  to  become  incarnate.' 

vii.  19-120. 

The  ascent  to  Venus,  insensible  at  the  moment,  was  after 
taking  place  revealed  by  the  increased  beauty  of  Beatrice. 
Here  within  the  star's  light  were  seen  circling  other  lights, 
their  charity  such  that  albeit  they  revolved  with  the  Heavenly 
Principalities,  yet,  as  one  testified,  Dante's  desire  to  con- 
verse with  them  would  render  a  pause  no  less  blissful  than 
unbroken  revolution. 

After  these  eyes  of  mine  themselves  had  offered 
Unto  my  Lady  reverently,  and  she 
Content  and  certain  of  herself  had  made  them, 

Back  to  the  light  they  turned,  which  so  great  promise 
Made  of  itself,  and,  '  Say,  who  art  thou  ?'  was 
My  voice,  imprinted  with  a  great  affection. 

O  how  and  how  much  I  beheld  it  grow 
With  the  new  joy  that  superadded  was 
Unto  its  joys,  as  soon  as  I  had  spoken  ! 

Thus  changed,  it  said  to  me  :  '  The  world  possessed  me 
Short  time  below :  and,  if  it  had  been  more, 
Much  evil  will  be  which  would  not  have  been. 

My  gladness  keepeth  me  concealed  from  thee, 
Which  rayeth  round  about  me,  and  doth  hide  me 
Like  as  a  creature  swathed  in  its  own  silk. 

Much  didst  thou  love  me,  and  thou  hadst  good  reason  ; 
For  had  I  been  below,  I  should  have  shown  thee 

Somewhat  beyond  the  foliage  of  my  love.' 

vni.  40-57. 


treats  of  Nativity  and  Degeneracy.       229 

This  Saint  was  Charles  Martel,  the  eldest  son  of  Charles 
II.  of  Naples  by  his  wife  Mary  of  Hungary,  and  thus 
doubly  born  a  King,  though  the  paternal  crown  he  did 
not  live  to  inherit,  dying  at  the  age  of  twenty-three.  This 
virtuous  prince  and  early  friend  of  Dante  now  bitterly 
lamented  the  fate  of  Naples  under  his  money-loving  brother 
Robert  I.,  degenerate  from  their  large-natured  father.  —  Yet 
when  a  son  is  not  the  speaker,  Charles  II.  himself  is 
throughout  the  poem  unfavorably  mentioned.  In  another 
passage  of  the  Paradiso1  largeness  of  nature  is  indeed 
probably  alluded  to  as  his  one  virtue ;  but  in  the  Purga- 
torio  he  is  actually  included  in  Hugh  Capet's  denunciation 
of  the  avarice  of  his  house,2  and  is  spoken  of  by  Sordello 
as  degenerate  from  his  own  father  Charles  I.8  Such  de- 
generacy, of  which  various  instances  were  then  under  con- 
templation, was,  as  we  saw,  attributed  by  the  speaker  to 
its  primary  cause,  the  Will  of  Almighty  God 4  that  all  the 
glory  of  human  virtue  should  be  ascribed  to  Himself. 
Dante  now,  desiring  farther  light  on  the  subject,  asked  of 
Charles  Martel  how  of  sweet  seed  can  come  bitter,  and 
heard  the  astrological  doctrine  of  the  secondary  cause  and 
its  practical  result :  —  that  the  star  under  which  nativity 
takes  place  counteracts  and  modifies  by  its  influence  the 
otherwise  unvarying  rule  of  the  resemblance  of  child  to 
parent ;  and  that  in  all  glaring  instances  of  contrast  be- 
tween a  man's  self  and  his  state  of  life,  the  blame  should 
fall,  not  on  Nature  for  not  adapting  him  to  his  state, 
but  on  himself  and  his  advisers  for  not  adapting  his  state 
to  him. 

1  Par.  xix.  127-129.  2  Pur.  xx.  79-81. 

8  Pur.  vii.  124.  4  See  pp.  136,  137. 


230  The  Blessed  in  the  Sun. 

Other  Spirits  of  this  Third  Heaven  then  conversed  with 
their  guest ;  and  Rahab  was  pointed  out  to  him  as  its  most 
exalted  inhabitant. 

But  behold  him  now  free  of  the  region  of  imperfect 
Wills ;  the  transitional  Heaven  of  the  Sun  lies  before  him, 
the  peculiar  kingdom  of  Wisdom  and  Knowledge.  —  The 
Sun  was  in  Aries, 

And  I  was  with  him  ;  but  of  the  ascending 

I  was  not  conscious,  saving  as  a  man 

Of  a  first  thought  is  conscious  ere  it  come  ; 
And  Beatrice,  she  who  is  seen  to  pass 

From  good  to  better,  and  so  suddenly 

That  not  by  time  her  action  is  expressed, 
How  lucent  in  herself  must  she  have  been  ! 

And  what  was  in  the  sun,  wherein  I  entered, 

Apparent  not  by  color  but  by  light, 
I,  though  I  call  on  genius,  art,  and  practice, 

Cannot  so  tell  that  it  could  be  imagined  ; 

Believe  one  can,  and  let  him  long  to  see  it. 
And  if  our  fantasies  too  lowly  are 

For  altitude  so  great,  it  is  no  marvel, 

Since  o'er  the  sun  was  never  eye  could  go. 
Such  in  this  place  was  the  fourth  family 

Of  the  high  Father,  Who  for  ever  sates  it, 

Showing  how  He  breathes  forth  and  how  begets. 
And  Beatrice  began  :  '  Give  thanks,  give  thanks 

Unto  the  Sun  of  Angels,  Who  to  this 

Sensible  one  has  raised  thee  by  His  grace ! ' 
Never  was  heart  of  mortal  so  disposed 

To  worship,  nor  to  give  itself  to  God 

AVith  all  its  gratitude  was  it  so  ready, 
As  at  those  words  did  I  myself  become  ; 

And  all  my  love  was  so  absorbed  in  Him, 


First  Garland:  S.  Thomas  Aquinas,  Boethius.  2  3 1 

That  in  oblivion  Beatrice  was  eclipsed. 

Nor  this  displeased  her ;  but  she  smiled  at  it 
So  that  the  splendor  of  her  laughing  eyes 
My  single  mind  on  many  things  divided. 

Lights  many  saw  I,  vivid  and  triumphant, 
Make  us  a  centre  and  themselves  a  circle, 
More  sweet  in  voice  than  luminous  in  aspect. 

Thus  girt  about  the  daughter  of  Latona 

We  sometimes  see,  when  pregnant  is  the  air, 

So  that  it  holds  the  thread  which  makes  her  zone.1 

Within  the  court  of  Heaven,  whence  I  return, 
Are  many  jewels  found,  so  fair  and  precious 
They  cannot  be  transported  from  the  realm  ; 

And  of  them  was  the  singing  of  those  lights. 

Who  takes  not  wings  that  he  may  fly  up  thither, 
The  tidings  thence  may  from  the  dumb  await ! 

x.  34-75- 

.SLThomas  Aquinas  from  out  the  garland  made  known 
himself  and  his  companions,  among  whom  were  Albertus 
Magnus ;  Gratian ;  Peter  Lombard ;  Solomon ;  S.  Diony- 
sius  the  Areopagite,  whose  treatise  De  coelesti  Hierarchia  is 
the  foundation  of  Dante's  own  theory  respecting  the  An- 
gelic Orders ;  Severinus  Boethius  ;  and  the  Venerable  Bede. 
On  Boethius  we  may  dwell  a  moment  longer ;  he  had  been 
a  Roman  Senator  whom  the  Gothic  King  Theodoric  in  con- 
sequence of  some  suspicion  imprisoned  at  Pavia,  and  who 
there  wrote  the  treatise  De  consolatione  Philosophise,  Dante's 
comfort  in  the  bitter  mourning  of  his  youth,2  as  doubtless 
also  in  the  exile  of  his  maturer  age.  This  eighth  radiance 
of  the  garland  was  thus  specially  commended  to  notice  : 

1  The  colors  which  form  the  halo. 

2  Convito  ii.  13  (see  page  22). 


232  Second  Gar  land:  S.Bonaventura. — Solomon. 

'  Now  if  thou  trainest  thy  mind's  eye  along 
From  light  to  light  pursuant  of  my  praise, 
With  thirst  already  of  the  eighth  thou  waitest. 

By  seeing  every  good  therein  exults 

The  sainted  Soul,  which  the  fallacious  world 
Makes  manifest  to  him  who  listeneth  well ; 

The  body  whence  't  was  hunted  forth  is  lying 
Down  in  Cieldauro,  and  from  martyrdom 
And  banishment  it  came  unto  this  peace.' 

x.  121-129. 

All  aglow  with  charity,  the  great  Dominican  Saint  pro- 
ceeded to  dilate  first  on  the  glories,  not  of  his  own  Founder, 
but  of  the  '  seraphic '  S.  Francis  of  Assisi ;  and  then,  while 
exalting  S.  Dominic,  severely  to  condemn  the  corruptions 
which  had  crept  into  his  Order.  -But  anon  round  the  first 
saintly  garland  formed  a  second,  among  whose  component 
roses  were  Hugh  de  S.  Victor,  the  Prophet  Nathan,  S. 
Chrysostom,  S.  Anselm,  and  S.  Bonaventura  the  Franciscan, 
who  emulous  of  S.  Thomas'  humility  and  charity  first 
narrated  the  acts  of  the  '  cherubic '  S.  Dominic  :  and  alas  ! 
found  hardly  less  reason  to  conclude  by  censuring  his  own 
Order  than  by  extolling  its  Founder  S.  Francis. 

Then  S.  Thomas  spoke  again.  In  naming  one  by  one 
the  Saints  of  the  first  garland  he  had  said  of  Solomon,  the 
Singer  of  the  Canticles  and  the  wisest  of  mankind, 

'  The  fifth  light,  that  among  us  is  the  fairest, 

Breathes  forth  from  such  a  love  that  all  the  world 
Below  is  greedy  to  learn  tidings  of  it. 

Within  it  is  the  lofty  mind,  where  knowledge 
So  deep  was  put,  that,  if  the  true  be  true, 
To  see  so  much  there  never  rose  a  second  : ' 

(x.  109-114.) 


'  Judge  nothing  before  the  time"         233 

and  this  concluding  assertion  had  wrought  in  his  hearer's 
mind  a  perplexity  which  the  Angelic  Doctor  removed  by 
explaining  that  Regal  Prudence  is  the  one  and  only  point 
of  this  King's  unique  eminence  among  the  sons  of  men. 
And  after  an  admonition  against  hasty  sentence  in  matters 
of  reasoning,  he  gave  yet  more  solemn  warning  against  self- 
intrusion  into  the  Eternal  Judgment-Seat : 

'  Nor  yet  shall  people  be  too  confident 
In  judging,  even  as  he  is  who  doth  count 
The  corn  in  field  or  ever  it  be  ripe. 

For  I  have  seen  all  winter  long  the  thorn 
First  show  itself  intractable  and  fierce, 
And  after  bear  the  rose  upon  its  top  ; 

And  I  have  seen  a  ship  direct  and  swift 

Run  o'er  the  sea  throughout  its  course  entire, 
To  perish  at  the  harbor's  mouth  at  last. 

Let  not  Dame  Bertha  nor  Ser  Martin  think, 
Seeing  one  steal,  another  offering  make. 
To  see  them  in  the  arbitrament  divine  ; 

For  one  may  rise,  and  fall  the  other  may.* 

xni.  130-142. 

Beatrice    next   besought   on   Dante's    behalf   instruction 
respecting  another  truth. 

c  This  man  has  need  (and  does  not  tell  you  so, 

Nor  with  the  voice,  nor  even  in  his  thought) 

Of  going  to  the  root  of  one  truth  more. 
Declare  unto  him  if  the  light  wherewith 

Blossoms  your  substance  shall  remain  with  you 

Eternally  the  same  that  it  is  now  ; 
And  if  it  do  remain,  say  in  what  manner, 

After  ye  are  again  made  visible, 

It  can  be  that  it  injure  not  your  sight.' 


-  234          Of  the  Saints  vesture  of  light. 

As  by  a  greater  gladness  urged  and  drawn 
They  who  are  dancing  in  a  ring  sometimes 
Uplift  their  voices  and  their  motions  quicken  ; 

So,  at  that  orison  devout  and  prompt, 
The  holy  circles  a  new  joy  displayed 
In  their  revolving  and  their  wondrous  song. 

Whoso  lamenteth  him  that  here  we  die 
That  we  may  live  above,  has  never  there 
Seen  the  refreshment  of  the  eternal  rain. 

The  One  and  Two  and  Three  who  ever  liveth, 
And  reigneth  ever  in  Three  and  Two  and  One, 
Not  circumscribed  and  all  things  circumscribing, 

Three  several  times  was  chanted  by  each  one 
Among  those  Spirits  with  such  melody 
That  for  all  merit  it  were  just  reward  ; 

And,  in  the  lustre  most  divine  of  all 

The-lesser  ring,  I  heard  a  modest  voice,1 
Such  as  perhaps  the  Angel's  was  to  Mary, 

Answer :  *  As  long  as  the  festivity 
Of  Paradise  shall  be,  so  long  our  Love 
Shall  radiate  round  about  us  such  a  vesture. 

Its  brightness  is  proportioned  to  the  ardor, 
The  ardor  to  the  vision  ;  and  the  vision 
Equals  what  grace  it  has  above  its  worth.2 

When,  glorious  and  sanctified,  our  flesh 
Is  reassumed,  then  shall  our  persons  be 
More  pleasing  by  their  being  all  complete  ; 

For  will  increase  whate'er  bestows  on  us 
Of  light  gratuitous  the  Good  Supreme, 

1  Solomon's. 

2  So  long  as  Paradise  shall  last,  so  long  shall  God  our  Love  radiate 
this  vesture  of  light  around  us.     Its  brightness  is  in  proportion  to  the 
ardor  of  our  charity,  that  ardor  to  our  vision  of  God  ;  and  that  vision 
is  in  proportion  to  the  grace  bestowed  upon  the  soul  over  and  above 
its  natural  powers. 


Of  the  risen  and  glorified  Body.         235 

Light  which  enables  us  to  look  on  Him  ; 

Therefore  the  vision  must  perforce  increase, 
Increase  the  ardor  which  from  that  is  kindled, 
Increase  the  radiance  which  from  this  proceeds. 

But  even  as  a  coal  that  sends  forth  flame, 
And  by  its  vivid  whiteness  overpowers  it 
So  that  its  own  appearance  it  maintains, 

Thus  the  effulgence  that  surrounds  us  now 
Shall  be  o'erpowered  in  aspect  by  the  flesh,1 
Which  still  to-day  the  earth  doth  cover  up  ; 

Nor  can  so  great  a  splendor  weary  us, 
For  strong  will  be  the  organs  of  the  body 
To  everything  which  hath  the  power  to  please  us.' 

So  sudden  and  alert  appeared  to  me 
Both  one  and  the  other  choir  to  say  Amen, 
That  well  they  showed  desire  for  their  dead  bodies  ; 

Nor  sole  for  them  perhaps,  but  for  the  mothers, 
The  fathers,  and  the  rest  who  had  been  dear 
Or  ever  they  became  eternal  flames. 

And  lo  !  all  round  about  of  equal  brightness 
Arose  a  lustre  over  what  was  there, 
Like  an  horizon  that  is  clearing  up. 

And  as  at  rise  of  early  eve  begin 
Along  the  welkin  new  appearances, 
So  that  the  sight  seems  real  and  unreal, 

It  seemed  to  me  that  new  subsistences 
Began  there  to  be  seen,  and  make  a  circle 
Outside  the  other  two  circumferences. 

O  very  sparkling  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 

How  sudden  and  incandescent  it  became 
Unto  mine  eyes,  that  vanquished  bore  it  not ! 

1  Even  as  a  coal  sending  out  a  flame  does  yet  by  its  own  vivid  bright- 
ness so  overpower  that  flame  as  to  be  still  distinguished  as  coal,  so  will 
the  risen  body  of  flesh  be  distinguishable  notwithstanding  the  effulgence. 


236     The  Blessed  in  Mars :  the  radiant  Cross. 

But  Beatrice  so  beautiful  and  smiling 

Appeared  to  me,  that  with  the  other  sights 
That  followed  not  my  memory  I  must  leave  her. 

Then  to  uplift  themselves  mine  eyes  resumed 
The  power,  and  I  beheld  myself  translated 
To  higher  salvation  with  my  Lady  only. 

Well  was  I  ware  that  I  was  more  uplifted 
By  the  enkindled  smiling  of  the  star, 
That  seemed  to  me  more  ruddy  than  its  wont. 

With  all  my  heart,  and  in  that  dialect 
Which  is  the  same  in  all,  such  holocaust 
To  God  I  made  as  the  new  grace  beseemed  ; 

And  not  yet  from  my  bosom  was  exhausted 
The  ardor  of  sacrifice,  before  I  knew 
This  offering  was  accepted  and  auspicious  : 

For  with  so  great  a  lustre  and  so  red 

Splendors  appeared  to  me  in  twofold  rays, 
I  said  :  *  O  Helios  who  dost  so  adorn  them  ! ' 

Even  as  distinct  with  less  and  greater  lights 
Glimmers  between  the  two  poles  of  the  world 
The  Galaxy  that  maketh  wise  men  doubt, 

Thus  constellated  in  the  depths  of  Mars, 
Those  rays  described  the  venerable  sign 
That  quadrants  joining  in  a  circle  make. 

Here  doth  my  memory  overcome  my  genius  : 
For  on  that  cross  as  levin  gleamed  forth  Christ, 
So  that  I  cannot  find  ensample  worthy  ; 

But  he  who  takes  his  cross  and  follows  Christ 
Again  will  pardon  me  what  I  omit, 
Seeing  in  that  aurora  lighten  Christ. 

From  horn  to  horn,  and  'twixt  the  top  and  base, 
Lights  were  in  motion,  brightly  scintillating 
As  they  together  met  and  passed  each  other. 

XIV.   ID-Ill. 


D  antes  great-great-grandfather  Cacciaguida.  237 

An  ineffable  melody  of  a  hymn  to  the  Conqueror  of 
Death  resounded  all  over  the  Cross;  then  the  hush  of 
charity  fell  upon  it  that  the  stranger  might  speak  and  hear. 
But  lo  an  individual  star  from  out  that  constellation  saluted 
him  kinsman,  giving  fervent  thanks  for  the  grace  super- 
abounding  towards  him,  and  uttering  afterwards  things  such 
as  no  mortal  mind  can  comprehend.  Then  most  loving 
and  courteous  words  invited  question;  and  question  was 
made  forthwith. 

*  Truly  do  I  entreat  thee,  living  topaz  ! 

Set  in  this  precious  jewel  as  a  gem, 
That  thou  wilt  satisfy  me  with  thy  name.' 

*  O  leaf  of  mine,  in  whom  I  pleasure  took 

E'en  while  awaiting,  I  was  thine  own  root ! ' 
Such  a  beginning  he  in  answer  made  me. 

Then  said  to  me  :   '  That  one  from  whom  is  named 
Thy  race,  and  who  a  hundred  years  and  more 
Has  circled  round  the  mount  on  the  first  cornice, 

A  son  of  mine  and  thy  great-gran dsire  was  ; 
Well  it  behooves  thee  that  the  long  fatigue 
Thou  shouldst  for  him  make  shorter  with  thy  works. 

Florence,  within  the  ancient  boundary 
From  which  she  taketh  still  her  tierce  and  nones,1 
Abode  in  quiet,  temperate  and  chaste. 

No  golden  chain  she  had,  nor  coronal, 

Nor  ladies  shod  with  sandal  shoon,  nor  girdle 
That  caught  the  eye  more  than  the  person  did. 

Not  yet  the  daughter  at  her  birth  struck  fear 
Into  the  father,  for  the  time  and  dower 

1  Some  say  the  Hours  were  sung  in  the  Abbey,  others  in  the  Palazzo 
Pubblico;  both  within  the  circuit  of  the  ancient  walls.  (Fraticelli 
in  loc.} 


238          Florence  in  Cacciaguidas  time. 

Did  not  o'errun  this  side  or  that  the  measure. 
No  houses  had  she  void  of  families, 

Nor  yet  had  thither  come  Sardanapalus 

To  show  what  in  a  chamber  can  be  done  ; 
Not  yet  surpassed  had  Montemalo  been 

By  your  Uccellatojo,  which  surpassed 1 

Shall  in  its  downfall  be  as  in  its  rise. 
Belli  ncion  Berti  2  saw  I  go  begirt 

With  leather  and  with  bone,  and  from  the  mirror 

His  dame  depart  without  a  painted  face  ; 
And  him  of  Nerli  saw,  and  him  of  Vecchio,2 

Contented  with  their  simple  suits  of  buff, 

And  with  the  spindle  and  the  flax  their  dames. 
O  fortunate  women  !  and  each  one  was  certain 

Of  her  own  burial-place,  and  none  as  yet 

For  sake  of  France  was  in  her  bed  deserted. 
One  o'er  the  cradle  kept  her  studious  watch, 

And  in  her  lullaby  the  language  used 

That  first  delights  the  fathers  and  the  mothers  ; 
Another,  drawing  tresses  from  her  distaff, 

Told  o'er  among  her  family  the  tales 

Of  Trojans  and  of  Fesole  and  Rome. 
As  great  a  marvel  then  would  have  been  held 

A  Lapo  Salterello,  a  Cianghella,8 

As  Cincinnatus  or  Cornelia  now. 
To  such  a  quiet,  such  a  beautiful 

Life  of  the  citizen,  to  such  a  safe 

Community,  and  to  so  sweet  an  inn, 
Did  Mary  give  me,  with  loud  cries  invoked, 

1  The  Hill  of  Montemalo  overlooks  Rome,  that  of  the  Uccellatojo 
Florence,  which  latter  city  had  now  surpassed  Rome  in  the  splendor 
of  its  buildings. 

2  Florentine  noble. 

*  Persons  notorious  for  vice. 


Cacciaguidas  history.  239 

And  in  your  ancient  Baptistery  at  once 

Christian  and  Cacciaguida  I  became. 
Moronto  was  my  brother,  and  Eliseo  ; 

From  Val  di  Pado  came  to  me  my  wife,1 

And  from  that  place  thy  surname  was  derived. 
I  followed  afterward  the  Emperor  Conrad,2 

And  he  begirt  me  of  his  chivalry, 

So  much  I  pleased  him  with  my  noble  deeds. 
I  followed  in  his  train  against  that  law's 

Iniquity,  whose  people  doth  usurp 

Your  just  possessions,  through  your  Pastor's  fault. 
There  by  that  execrable  race  was  I 

Released  from  bonds  of  the  fallacious  world, 

The  love  of  which  defileth  many  souls, 
Aud  came  from  martyrdom  unto  this  peace.' 

xv.  85-148. 

Long,  long  did  ancestor  and  descendant  continue  to 
converse  of  Florence  past  and  present :  then  the  younger 
besought  clear  knowledge  of  that  future  darkly  hinted  to 
him  in  Hell  and  in  Purgatory;  and  the  elder,  seeing  all 
things  reflected  in  the  Eternal  Mind  as  in  a  mirror,  uttered 
what  he  saw. 

*  As  forth  from  Athens  went  Hippolytus, 
By  reason  of  his  step-dame  false  and  cruel, 
So  thou  from  Florence  must  perforce  depart. 

Already  this  is  willed,  and  this  is  sought  for ; 
And  soon  it  shall  be  done  by  him  who  thinks  it, 
Where  every  day  the  Christ  is  bought  and  sold. 


1  From  Ferrara  in  the  Valley  of  the  Pado  or  Po.     She  was  of  the 
Aldighieri  or  Allighieri  family. 

2  Conrad  III.,  the  first  Emperor  of  the  House  of  Hohenstauffen,  was 
one  of  the  leaders  of  the  Second  Crusade. 


240     Cacciaguida predicts  D antes  exile  : 

The  blame  shall  follow  the  offended  party 
In  outcry  as  is  usual ;  but  the  vengeance 
Shall  witness  to  the  truth  that  doth  dispense  it.1 

Thou  shalt  abandon  everything  beloved 
Most  tenderly,  and  this  the  arrow  is 
Which  first  the  bow  of  banishment  shoots  forth. 

Thou  shalt  have  proof  how  savoreth  of  salt 
The  bread  of  others,  and  how  hard  a  road 
The  going  down  and  up  another's  stairs. 

And  that  which  most  shall  weigh  upon  thy  shoulders 
Will  be  the  bad  and  foolish  company 
With  which  into  this  valley  thou  shalt  fall ; 

For  all  ingrate,  all  mad  and  impious 
Will  they  become  against  thee  ;  but  soon  after 
They,  and  not  thou,  shall  have  the  forehead  scarlet. 

Of  their  bestiality  their  own  proceedings 

Shall  furnish  proof;  so  't  will  be  well  for  thee 
A  party  to  have  made  thee  by  thyself. 

Son,  these  are  the  commentaries 
On  what  was  said  to  thee  :  behold  the  snares 
That  are  concealed  behind  few  revolutions  ; 

Yet  would  I  not  thy  neighbors  thou  shouldst  envy, 
Because  thy  life  into  the  future  reaches 
Beyond  the  punishment  of  their  perfidies.' 

When  by  its  silence  showed  that  sainted  soul 
That  it  had  finished  putting  in  the  woof 
Into  that  web  which  I  had  given  it  warped, 

Began  I,  even  as  he  who  yearneth  after, 
Being  in  doubt,  some  counsel  from  a  person 
Who  seeth,  and  uprightly  wills,  and  loves  : 

1  As  usual  in  this  world,  thou  who  comest  off  worst  wilt  be  con- 
sidered in  the  wrong;  but  the  vengeance  that  shall  overtake  thy  perse- 
cutors from  Him  Who  is  the  Truth  shall  witness  to  the  truth. 


urges  him  to  boldness  of  speech.         241 

*  Well  see  I,  father  mine,  how  spurreth  on 
The  time  towards  me  such  a  blow  to  deal  me 
As  heaviest  is  to  him  who  most  gives  way. 

Therefore  with  foresight  it  is  well  I  arm  me, 
That,  if  the  dearest  place  be  taken  from  me, 
I  may  not  lose  the  others  by  my  songs.1 

Down  through  the  world  of  infinite  bitterness, 
And  o'er  the  mountain,  from  whose  beauteous  summit 
The  eyes  of  my  own  Lady  lifted  me, 

And  afterward  through  Heaven  from  light  to  light, 
I  have  learned  that  which,  if  I  tell  again, 
Will  be  a  savor  of  strong  herbs  to  many. 

And  if  I  am  a  timid  friend  to  truth, 

I  fear  lest  I  may  lose  my  life  with  those 
Who  will  hereafter  call  this  time  the  olden.' 

The  light  in  which  was  smiling  my  own  treasure 
Which  there  I  had  discovered,  flashed  at  first 
As  in  the  sunshine  doth  a  golden  mirror ; 

Then  made  reply  :  '  A  conscience  overcast 
Or  with  its  own  or  with  another's  shame, 
Will  taste  forsooth  the  tartness  of  thy  word; 

But  nevertheless,  all  falsehood  laid  aside, 
Make  manifest  thy  vision  utterly, 
And  let  them  scratch  wherever  is  the  itch  ; 

For  if  thine  utterance  shall  offensive  be 
At  the  first  taste,  a  vital  nutriment 
'T  will  leave  thereafter,  when  it  is  digested. 

This  cry  of  thine  shall  do  as  doth  the  wind, 
Which  smiteth  most  the  most  exalted  summits, 
And  that  is  no  slight  argument  of  honor. 

Therefore  are  shown  to  thee  within  these  wheels, 


1  That  if  I  am  exiled  from  my  country,  I  may  not  for  telling  unwel- 
come truths  be  expelled  from  every  place  of  refuge. 

16 


242  The  Warrior  Saints. 

Upon  the  mount  and  in  the  dolorous  valley, 
Only  the  Souls  that  unto  fame  are  known  ; 

Because  the  spirit  of  the  hearer  rests  not, 
Nor  doth  confirm  its  faith  by  an  example 
Which  has  the  root  of  it  unknown  and  hidden, 

Or  other  reason  that  is  not  apparent.' 

xvn.  46-69,  94-142. 

Comforted  in  his  prospective  sorrows  by  the  love  and 
bliss  shining  on  him  through  the  eyes  of  his  Beloved,  the 
future  exile  from  among  his  fellow-citizens  of  Florence 
applied  himself  to  learn  from  his  progenitor  some  renowned 
names  of  his  fellow- citizens  of  Paradise ;  each  name  as  it 
resounded  being  claimed  by  the  owner's  flashing  in  his 
place  in  one  or  other  arm  of  the  Cross.  Joshua  flashed, 
and  Judas  Maccabaeus ;  Charlemagne  and  Roland ;  the 
Crusaders  Godfrey  of  Bouillon,  William  of  Orange,  and  his 
kinsman  Rinaldo ;  finally,  Robert  Guiscard  the  Norman 
conqueror  of  Sicily  from  the  Saracens.  Cacciaguida  re- 
turned to  sing  at  his  post  within  the  Cross ;  and  there  was 
a  pause. 

To  my  right  side  I  turned  myself  around, 

My  duty  to  behold  in  Beatrice 

Either  by  words  or  gesture  signified  ; 
And  so  translucent  I  beheld  her  eyes, 

So  full  of  pleasure,  that  her  countenance 

Surpassed  its  other  and  its  latest  wont. 
And  as,  by  feeling  greater  delectation, 

A  man  in  doing  good  from  day  to  day 

Becomes  aware  his  virtue  is  increasing, 
So  I  became  aware  that  my  gyration 

With  Heaven  together  had  increased  its  arc, 

That  miracle  beholding  more  adorned. 


The  Blessed  in  Jupiter.  243 

And  such  as  is  the  change,  in  little  lapse 
Of  time,  in  a  pale  woman,  when  her  face 
Is  from  the  load  of  bashfulness  unladen, 

Such  was  it  in  mine  eyes,  when  I  had  turned, 
Caused  by  the  whiteness  of  the  temperate  star, 
The  sixth,  which  to  itself  had  gathered  me. 

xviii.  52-69. 

Here  certain  radiant  Spirits  so  arranged  themselves  as 
successively  to  form  each  of  the  thirty-five  letters  of  the 
sentence,  '  Diligite  justitiam,  qui  judicatis  terram.'  Then 
more  Lights  descended  to  enwreathe  the  final  m,  and  at 
length,  when  all  had  developed  into  the  form  of  the 
crowned  Eagle  of  the  Latin  Empire,  the  Saints  constituting 
the  Beak  began  to  sing  of  their  own  and  their  fellows'  exal- 
tation hither  on  account  of  their  Justice  and  Mercy. 

Whence  I  thereafter  :  *  O  perpetual  flowers 

Of  the  eternal  joy,  that  only  one 

Make  me  perceive  your  odors  manifold, 
Exhaling,  break  within  me  the  great  fast 

Which  a  long  season  has  in  hunger  held  me, 

Not  finding  for  it  any  food  on  earth. 
Well  do  I  know,  that  if  in  Heaven  its  mirror 

Justice  Divine  another  realm  doth  make, 

Yours  apprehends  it  not  through  any  veil. 
You  know  how  I  attentively  address  me 

To  listen  ;  and  you  know  what  is  the  doubt 

That  is  in  me  so  very  old  a  fast.' 
Even  as  a  falcon,  issuing  from  his  hood, 

Doth  move  his  head,  and  with  his  wings  applaud  him, 

Showing  desire,  and  making  himself  fine, 
Saw  I  become  that  standard,  which  of  lauds 

Was  interwoven  of  the  grace  divine, 


244       The  Divine  Justice  is  inscrutable. 

With  such  songs  as  he  knows  who  there  rejoices. 
Then  it  began  :  «  He  Who  a  compass  turned 

On  the  world's  outer  verge,  and  Who  within  it 

Devised  so  much  occult  and  manifest, 
Could  not  the  impress  of  His  power  so  make 

On  all  the  universe,  as  that  His  Word 

Should  not  remain  in  infinite  excess.1 
And  this  makes  certain  that  the  first  proud  being,8 

Who  was  the  paragon  of  every  creature, 

By  not  awaiting  light  fell  immature. 
And  hence  appears  it,  that  each  minor  nature 

Is  scant  receptacle  unto  that  Good 

Which  has  no  end,  and  by  Itself  is  measured. 
In  consequence  our  vision,  which  perforce 

Must  be  some  ray  of  that  Intelligence 

With  Which  all  things  whatever  are  replete, 
Cannot  in  its  own  nature  be  so  potent. 

That  it  shall  not  its  Origin  discern 

Far  beyond  that  which  is  apparent  to  it.8 
Therefore  into  the  justice  sempiternal 

The  power  of  vision  that  your  world  receives, 

As  eye  into  the  ocean  penetrates ; 
Which,  though  it  see  the  bottom  near  the  shore, 

Upon  the  deep  perceives  it  not,  and  yet 

'T  is  there,  but  it  is  hidden  by  the  depth. 
There  is  no  light  but  comes  from  the  serene 

That  never  is  o'ercast,  nay,  it  is  darkness 

Or  shadow  of  the  flesh,  or  else  its  poison.4 

1  Should  not  infinitely  exceed  the  intelligence  of  the  highest  creature. 

2  See  page  15. 

3  Discern  God  its  Origin  infinitely  to  surpass  its  own  perceptions. 

4  Nothing  is  light  but  that  which   comes  from  God's   unclouded 
Brightness ;  whatever  else  claims  to  be  so  is  darkness,  or  a  shadow 
cast  by  the  flesh,  or  the  poison  of  false  judgment  bred  in  the  senses. 


Dante  s  question  respecting  the  Heathen.     245 

Amply  to  thee  is  opened  now  the  cavern 

Which  has  concealed  from  thee  the  living  justice 
Of  which  thou  mad'st  such  frequent  questioning. 

For  saidst  thou:  "  Born  a  man  is  on  the  shore 
Of  Indus,  and  is  none  who  there  can  speak 
Of  Christ,  nor  who  can  read,  nor  who  can  write ; 

And  all  his  inclinations  and  his  actions 
Are  good,  so  far  as  human  reason  sees, 
Without  a  sin  in  life  or  in  discourse : 

He  dieth  unbaptized  and  without  faith  ; 
Where  is  this  justice  that  condemneth  him  ? 
Where  is  his  fault,  if  he  do  not  believe  ?  " 

Now  who  art  thou,  that  on  the  bench  wouldst  sit 
In  judgment  at  a  thousand  miles  away, 
With  the  short  vision  of  a  single  span  ? 

Truly  to  him  who  with  me  subtilizes, 
If  so  the  Scripture  were  not  over  you, 
For  doubting  there  were  marvellous  occasion.1 

O  animals  terrene,  O  stolid  minds, 

The  primal  Will,  that  in  Itself  is  good, 

Ne'er  from  Itself,  the  Good  Supreme,  has  moved. 

So  much  is  just  as  is  accordant  with  It; 
No  good  created  draws  It  to  itself, 
But  It,  by  raying  forth,  occasions  that.' 

Even  as  above  her  nest  goes  circling  round 
The  stork  when  she  has  fed  her  little  ones, 
And  he  who  has  been  fed  looks  up  at  her, 

So  lifted  I  my  brows,  and  even  such 

Became  the  blessed  image,  which  its  wings 
Was  moving,  by  so  many  counsels  urged. 


1  Truly  to  him  who  so  subtilely  argues  with  me  there  would  be  great 
occasion  to  doubt,  were  not  the  Scripture  far  above  all  human  argu- 
ments. 


246  Bad  Christians  far  worse  than  the  Heathen. 

Circling  around  it  sang,  and  said  :  '  As  are 

My  notes  to  thee,  who  dost  not  comprehend  them, 
Such  is  the  eternal  judgment  to  you  mortals.' 

Those  lucent  splendors  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
Grew  quiet  then,  but  still  within  the  standard 
That  made  the  Romans  reverend  to  the  world. 

It  recommenced:  'Unto  this  kingdom  never 
Ascended  one  who  had  not  faith  in  Christ, 
Before  or  since  He  to  the  tree  was  nailed. 

But  look  thou,  many  crying  are,  "  Christ,  Christ ! '' 
Who  at  the  judgment  shall  be  far  less  near 
To  Him  than  some  shall  be  who  knew  not  Christ. 

Such  Christians  shall  the  Ethiop  condemn, 
When  the  two  companies  shall  be  divided, 
The  one  forever  rich,  the  other  poor. 

What  to  your  kings  may  not  the  Persians  say, 
When  they  that  volume  opened  shall  behold 
In  which  are  written  down  all  their  dispraises  ? ' 

xix.  22-114. 

And  then  followed  the  special  dispraises  of  the  reigning 
Princes  of  Europe  ;  of  the  Emperor  Albert  I.  for  his  invasion 
and  occupation  of  Bohemia,  of  Philippe  le  Bel  for  his  de- 
basement of  the  coin,  of  Edward  I.  and  his  Scottish  rival  for 
their  pride  and  ambition,  of  Charles  the  Lame  of  Naples 
for  the  virtue  1  whereof  I  and  the  vices  whereof  M  is  the 
numeral,  and  of  many  others  of  less  familiar  names  on 
various  grounds.  —  Songs  of  unspeakable  sweetness  filled  up 
a  pause;  and  soon  the  Beak  spoke  again,  giving  account 
of  the  six  specially  exalted  Spirits  forming  the  Eye.  The 
Pupil  was  David.  The  first  of  the  five  of  the  Eyebrow  was 
Trajan,  in  the  Middle  Ages  popularly  believed  to  have 

1  Par.  viii.  82  (p.  229). 


Trajan  ;  Ripheus. —  The  ascent  to  Saturn.    247 

been  delivered  from  Hell  and  resuscitated  on  earth  through 
S.  Gregory  the  Great  being  moved  to  intercede  for  him  for 
love  of  his  eminent  justice,  and  in  that  second  brief  earthly 
life  to  have  embraced  Christianity,  received  Baptism,  and 
merited  Paradise.  The  other  four  were  Hezekiah ;  Con- 
stantine  the  Great ;  William  the  Good  of  Naples  and  Sicily ; 
and  Ripheus  the  Trojan,  supposed  by  Dante  to  have  been 
first  enabled  by  special  grace  to  set  all  his  aifections  on 
justice,  and  so  to  have  passed  on  to  the  further  grace  of 
foreseeing  the  future  Redemption,  reproving  idolatry,  and 
having  for  Baptism  the  three  Theological  Virtues.  As  here 
no  popular  or  legendary  belief  seems  adducible,  we  may,  I 
think,  assume  this  last  case  to  be  imagined  as  the  Poet's 
own  reply  to  his  recently-cited  question  respecting  Eternal 
Justice  towards  a  perfectly  virtuous  heathen ; l  a  reply 
amounting  to  this  —  that  no  heathen  could  be  perfectly  vir- 
tuous save  by  a  miracle  of  grace ;  and  that  supposing  this 
first  miracle  performed,  a  second  might  much  rather  be 
expected  to  infuse  a  faith  that  cometh  not  by  hearing,  than 
faith  itself  be  dispensed  with  as  the  condition  of  salvation. 
The  imagination  of  such  a  case  is  in  fact  an  expansion  of 
the  Eagle's  words  before  cited, 

'  No  good  created  draws  It  to  itself, 
But  It,  by  raying  forth,  occasions  that.' 

xix.  89,  90.2 

The  ascent  to  Saturn  was  not  merely  insensible,  but  un- 
marked even  by  the  smile  of  Beatrice,  whose  glory  would  at 
this  point  have  been  unendurable  by  mortal  man.  Here 
Jacob's  Ladder,  the  golden-hued  symbol  of  Divine  Con- 

1  Par.  xix.  70-78  (p.  245).  2  See  the  same  page. 


248     The  Blessed  in  Saturn. — .S.  Peter  Damian 

temptation,  stretched  up  into  heights  untraceable ;  and 
Saints  as  countless  stars  shimmered  up  and  down  upon  it,  but 
sang  not  —  as  one  of  them  explained  to  Dante  —  for  the  same 
reason  that  Beatrice  did  not  smile.  The  explainer  was  S. 
Peter  Damian,  a  Benedictine  monk  made  by  Pope  Stephen 
IX.  Cardinal  and  Bishop  of  Ostta.  His  farther  statement 
that  not  greater  love  to  the  Pilgrim  guest  than  his  com- 
panions nourished,  but  Divine  Election  was  the  cause  of  his 
being  the  one  to  present  himself  to  hear  and  to  reply, 
moved  Dante  to  inquire  the  ground  of  such  election. 

No  sooner  had  I  come  to  the  last  word, 
Than  of  its  middle  made  the  light  a  centre, 
Whirling  itself  about  like  a  swift  millstone. 

Then  answer  made  the  love  that  was  therein : 
*  On  me  directed  is  a  light  divine, 
Piercing  through  this  in  which  I  am  embosomed, 

Of  which  the  virtue  with  my  sight  conjoined 
Lifts  me  above  myself  so  far,  I  see 
The  Supreme  Essence  from  which  this  is  drawn. 

Hence  comes  the  joyfulness  with  which  I  flame, 
For  to  my  sight,  as  far  as  it  is  clear, 
The  clearness  of  the  flame  I  equal  make. 

But  that  Soul  in  the  Heaven  which  is  most  pure, 
That  Seraph  which  his  eye  on  God  most  fixes, 
Could  this  demand  of  thine  not  satisfy ; 

Because  so  deeply  sinks  in  the  abyss 
Of  the  eternal  statute  what  thou  askest. 
From  all  created  sight  it  is  cut  off. 

And  to  the  mortal  world,  when  thou  returnest, 
This  carry  back,  that  it  may  not  presume 
Longer  tow'rd  such  a  goal  to  move  its  feet. 

The  mind  that  shineth  here,  on  earth  doth  smoke : 


discourses  of  Election.  —  6\  Belw&  l  ^249 


From  this  observe  how  can  it  do  below 
That  which  it  cannot  though  the  Heaven  assume  it?' 

xxi.  79-102. 

The  Saint  refused  not  however  to  name  himself  when 
requested  ;  after  which  he  severely  animadverted  on  the 
worldliness  of  the  churchmen  of  the  day,  and  a  thunder-cry 
to  the  Divine  Justice  went  up  from  the  radiant  multitude. 
Beatrice  having  calmed  her  disciple's  consequent  fear, 
directed  his  attention  'to  that  multitude.  Its  largest  and 
brightest  pearl,  S.  Benedict,  then  declared  himself,  and 
pointed  out  S.  Macarius  and  S.  Romuald. 

And  I  to  him  :  '  The  affection  which  thou  showest 
Speaking  with  me,  and  the  good  countenance 
Which  I  behold  and  note  in  all  your  ardors, 
In  me  have  so  my  confidence  dilated 
As  the  sun  doth  the  rose,  when  it  becomes 
As  far  unfolded  as  it  hath  the  power. 
Therefore  I  pray,  and  thou  assure  me,  father, 
If  I  may  so  much  grace  receive,  that  I 
May  thee  behold  with  countenance  unveiled.' 
He  thereupon  :  *  Brother,  thy  high  desire 
In  the  remotest  sphere  shall  be  fulfilled, 
Where  are  fulfilled  all  others  and  my  own. 
There  perfect  is,  and  ripened,  and  complete, 
Every  desire  ;  within  that  one  alone 
Is  every  part  where  it  has  always  been  ;  l 
For  it  is  not  in  space,  nor  turns  on  poles, 
And  unto  it  our  stairway  reaches  up, 
Whence  thus  from  out  thy  sight  'it  steals  away. 
Up  to  that  height  the  Patriarch  Jacob  saw  it 
Extending  its  supernal  part,  what  time 
So  thronged  with  angels  it  appeared  to  him.' 

xxil.  52-72. 

1  The  Empyrean  is  motionless. 


250       The  ascent  into  the  Starry  Heaven, 

He  ended  with  rebuke  —  the  relaxation  of  the  Monastic 
Orders  supplying  the  text  — 

.  .  .  and  then  withdrew 

To  his  own  band,  and  the  band  closed  together; 
Then  like  a  whirlwind  all  was  upward  rapt. 

The  gentle  Lady  urged  me  on  behind  them 
Up  o'er  that  stairway  by  a  single  sign, 
So  did  her  virtue  overcome  my  nature  ; 

Nor  here  below,  where  one  goes  up  and  down 
By  natural  law,  was  motion  e'er  so  swift 
That  it  could  be  compared  unto  my  wing. 

Reader,  as  I  may  unto  that  devout 
Triumph  return,  on  whose  account  I  often 
For  my  transgressions  weep  and  beat  my  breast,  — 

Thou  hadst  not  thrust  thy  finger  in  the  fire 
And  drawn  it  out  again,  before  I  saw 
The  sign  that  follows  Taurus,  and  was  in  it. 

xxn.  97-1 1 1. 

This  is  the  Sign  of  Gemini,  under  which  Dante,  as  he 
proceeds  to  relate,  was  born;  he  was  now  in  the  Heaven 
of  the  Fixed  Stars,  contemplating  them  one  by  one,  and 
looking  down  on  Earth  through  all  the  Planetary  Heavens. 

O  glorious  stars,  O  light  impregnated 

With  mighty  virtue,  from  which  I  acknowledge 

All  of  my  genius,  whatsoe'er  it  be, 
With  you  was  born,  and  hid  himself  with  you, 

He  who  is  father  of  all  mortal  life, 

When  first  I  tasted  of  the  Tuscan  air ; 
And  then  when  grace  was  freely  given  to  me 

To  enter  the  high  wheel  which  turns  you  round, 

Your  region  was  allotted  unto  me. 
To  you  devoutly  at  this  hour  my  soul 

Is  sighing,  that  it  virtue  may  acquire 


whence  Dante  looks  down  upon  Earth.     251 

For  the  stern  pass  that  draws  it  to  itself.1 

'  Thou  art  so  near  unto  the  last  salvation,'  2 
Thus  Beatrice  began,  '  thou  oughtest  now 
To  have  thine  eyes  unclouded  and  acute ; 

And  therefore,  ere  thou  enter  farther  in, 
Look  down  once  more,  and  see  how  vast  a  world 
Thou  hast  already  put  beneath  thy  feet ; 

So  that  thy  heart,  as  jocund  as  it  may, 
Present  itself  to  the  triumphant  throng 
That  comes  rejoicing  through  this  rounded  ether.' 

I  with  my  sight  returned  through  one  and  all 
The  sevenfold  spheres,  and  I  beheld  this  globe 
Such  that  I  smiled  at  its  ignoble  semblance ; 

And  that  opinion  I  approve  as  best 

Which  doth  account  it  least ;  and  he  who  thinks 
Of  something  else  may  truly  be  called  just. 

I  saw  the  daughter  of  Latona  shining 
Without  that  shadow  which  to  me  was  cause 
That  once  I  had  believed  her  rare  and  dense,8 

The  aspect  of  thy  son,  Hyperion, 

Here  I  sustained,  and  saw  how  move  themselves 
Around  and  near  him  Maia  and  Dione. 

Thence  there  appeared  the  temperateness  of  Jove 
'Twixt  son  and  father,  and  to  me  was  clear 
The  change  that  of  their  whereabout  they  make  ; 

And  all  the  seven  made  manifest  to  me 
How  great  they  are,  and  eke  how  swift  they  are, 
And  how  they  are  in  distant  habitations. 

The  threshing-floor  that  maketh  us  so  proud, 
To  me  revolving  with  the  eternal  Twins, 

1  The  extreme  difficulty  of  writing  of  the  Supreme  Mysteries  beheld 
in  the  Empyrean. 

2  The  highest  beatitude. 

3  The  theory  abandoned  by  Dante  (see  p.  212). 


252     The  triumph  of  Christ  descends. —  The  Sun 

Was  all  apparent  made  from  hill  to  harbor  ! 
Then  to  the  beauteous  eyes  mine  eyes  I  turned. 

xxii.  112-154. 

But  there  were  yet  greater  things  than  these  to  be  seen : 
the  Triumph  of  Christ  was  about  to  descend. 

Even  as  a  bird,  'mid  the  beloved  leaves, 
Quiet  upon  the  nest  of  her  sweet  brood 
Throughout  the  night,  that  hideth  all  things  from  us, 

Who,  that  she  may  behold  their  longed-for  looks 
And  find  the  food  wherewith  to  nourish  them, 
In  which,  to  her,  grave  labors  grateful  are, 

Anticipates  the  time  on  open  spray 

And  with  an  ardent  longing  waits  the  sun, 
Gazing  intent  as  soon  as  breaks  the  dawn  : 

Even  thus  my  Lady  standing  was,  erect 
And  vigilant,  turned  round  towards  the  zone  1 
Underneath  which  the  sun  displays  less  haste  ; 

So  that  beholding  her  distraught  and  wistful, 
Such  I  became  as  he  is  who  desiring 
For  something  yearns,  and  hoping  is  appeased. 

But  brief  the  space  from  one  When  to  the  other  ; 
Of  my  awaiting,  say  I,  and  the  seeing 
The  welkin  grow  resplendent  more  and  more. 

And  Beatrice  exclaimed  :  *  Behold  the  hosts 
Of  Christ's  triumphal  march,  and  all  the  fruit 
Harvested  by  the  rolling  of  these  spheres  !  ' ' 

It  seemed  to  me  her  face  was  all  aflame  ; 
And  eyes  she  had  so  full  of  ecstasy 
That  I  must  needs  pass  on  without  describing. 

As  when  in  nights  serene  of  the  full  moon 
Smiles  Trivia  among  the  nymphs  eternal 
Who  paint  the  firmament  through  all  its  gulfs, 

1  The  South. 


of  Righteousness  strengthens  D  antes  sight.    253 

Saw  I,  above  the  myriads  of  lamps, 
A  Sun  1  that  one  and  all  of  them  enkindled, 
E'en  as  our  own  doth  the  supernal  sights,2 

And  through  the  living  Light  transparent  shone 
The  lucent  Substance  so  intensely  clear 
Into  my  sight,  that  I  sustained  it  not. 

0  Beatrice,  thou  gentle  guide  and  dear  ! 

To  me  she  said  :  *  What  overmasters  thee 
A  virtue  is  from  which  naught  shields  itself. 

There  are  the  Wisdom  and  Omnipotence 

That  oped  the  thoroughfares  'twixt  Heaven  and  earth, 
For  which  there  erst  had  been  so  long  a  yearning.7 

As  fire  from  out  a  cloud  unlocks  itself, 
Dilating  so  it  finds  not  room  therein, 
And  down,  against  its  nature,  falls  to  earth, 

So  did  my  mind,  among  those  aliments 
Becoming  larger,  issue  from  itself, 
And  that  which  it  became  cannot  remember. 

'  Open  thine  eyes,  and  look  at  what  I  am  : 
Thou  hast  beheld  such  things,  that  strong  enough 
Hast  thou  become  to  tolerate  my  smile.' 

1  was  as  one  who  still  retains  the  feeling 
Of  a  forgotten  vision,  and  endeavors 
In  vain  to  bring  it  back  into  his  mind, 

When  I  this  invitation  heard,  deserving 

Of  so  much  gratitude,  it  never  fades 

Out  of  the  book  that  chronicles  the  past. 
If  at  this  moment  sounded  all  the  tongues 

That  Polyhymnia  and  her  sisters  made 

Most  lubrical  with  their  delicious  milk, 
To  aid  me,  to  a  thousandth  of  the  truth 

It  would  not  reach,  singing  the  holy  smile 

And  how  the  holy  aspect  it  illumined. 

1  Our  Blessed  Lord.  2  The  stars. 


254     The  Flowers  of  the  everlasting  Garden. 

And  therefore,  representing  Paradise, 
The  sacred  poem  must  perforce  leap  over, 
Even  as  a  man  who  finds  his  way  cut  oft ; 

But  whoso  thinketh  of  the  ponderous  theme, 
And  of  the  mortal  shoulder  laden  with  it, 
Should  blame  it  not,  if  under  this  it  tremble. 

It  is  no  passage  for  a  little  boat 
This  which  goes  cleaving  the  audacious  prow, 
Nor  for  a  pilot  who  would  spare  himself. 

'Why  doth  my  face  so  much  enamour  thee, 
That  to  the  garden  fair  thou  turnest  not, 
Which  under  the  rays  of  Christ  is  blossoming  ? 

There  is  the  Rose  in  which  the  Word  Divine 
Became  incarnate  ;  there  the  lilies  are 
By  whose  perfume  the  good  way  was  discovered.1 

xxiii.  1-75. 

Dante  beheld  the  Mystical  Rose,  the  Virgin  Mother  of 
God,  crowned  by  the  Archangel  Gabriel  in  the  form  of  a 
wreath  of  light  and  melody,  follow  her  Adorable  Son  into 
the  Empyrean.  But  the  mystical  Lilies,  the  Apostles,  and 
the  rest  of  the  Blessed  remaining  behind,  were  entreated  of 
Beatrice  to  bedew  her  Charge  with  the  waters  of  that  Living 
Fountain  whereof  they  drink  unceasingly.  Their  consent 
was  betokened  in  their  flaming  velocity  of  revolution ;  then 
from  the  most  beauteous  circle  stood  forth  in  intensest  glow 
S.  Peter : 

And  she  :  '  O  light  eterne  of  the  great  man 
To  whom  our  Lord  delivered  up  the  keys 
He  carried  down  of  this  miraculous  joy, 

This  one  examine  on  points  light  and  grave, 
As  good  beseemeth  thee,  about  the  Faith 


S.  Peter  examines  Dante :  l  What  is  Faith  ?'  255 

By  means  of  which  thou  on  the  sea  didst  walk. 

If  he  love  well,  and  hope  well,  and  believe, 

From  thee  't  is  hid  not ;  for  thou  hast  thy  sight 
There  where  depicted  everything  is  seen. 

But  since  this  kingdom  has  made  citizens 
By  means  of  the  true  Faith,  to  glorify  it 
'T  is  well  he  have  the  chance  to  speak  thereof.' 

As  baccalaureate  arms  himself,  and  speaks  not 
Until  the  master  doth  propose  the  question, 
To  argue  it,  and  not  to  terminate  it, 

So  did  I  arm  myself  with  every  reason, 
While  she  was  speaking,  that  I  might  be  ready 
For  such  a  questioner  and  such  profession. 

*  Say,  thou  good  Christian  ;  manifest  thyself ; 

What  is  the  Faith  ? '     Whereat  I  raised  my  brow 
Unto  that  light  wherefrom  was  this  breathed  forth. 
Then  turned  I  round  to  Beatrice,  and  she 

Prompt  signals  made  to  me  that  I  should  pour 
The  water  forth  from  my  internal  fountain. 

*  May  grace,  that  suffers  me  to  make  confession/ 

Began  I,  *  to  the  great  centurion, 

Cause  my  conceptions  all  to  be  explicit!' 
And  I  continued  :  *  As  the  truthful  pen, 

Father,  of  thy  dear  brother  wrote  of  it, 

Who  put  with  thee  Rome  into  the  good  way, 
Faith  is  the  substance  of  the  things  we  hope  for, 

And  evidence  of  those  that  are  not  seen ; 

And  this  appears  to  me  its  quiddity.' 
Then  heard  I  :  *  Very  rightly  thou  perceivest, 

If  well  thou  understandest  why  he  placed  it 

With  substances  and  then  with  evidences.' 
And  I  thereafterward  :  '  The  things  profound, 

That  here  vouchsafe  to  me  their  apparition, 

Unto  all  eyes  below  are  so  concealed, 


256    'Hast  thou  Faith?  whence?  what  proofs? 

That  they  exist  there  only  in  belief, 

Upon  the  which  is  founded  the  high  hope, 
And  hence  it  takes  the  nature  of  a  substance. 

And  it  behooveth  us  from  this  belief 
To  reason  without  having  other  sight, 
And  hence  it  has  the  nature  of  evidence.' 

Then  heard  I :  'If  whatever  is  acquired 
Below  by  doctrine  were  thus  understood, 
No  sophist's  subtlety  would  there  find  place/ 

Thus  was  breathed  forth  from  that  enkindled  love ; 
Then  added :  '  Very  well  has  been  gone  over 
Already  of  this  coin  the  alloy  and  weight ; 

But  tell  me  if  thou  hast  it  in  thy  purse  ?  ' 
And  I :  '  Yes,  both  so  shining  and  so  round, 
That  in  its  stamp  there  is  no  peradventure.' 

Thereafter  issued  from  the  light  profound 
That  there  resplendent  was  :  '  This  precious  jewel, 
Upon  the  which  is  every  virtue  founded, 

Whence  hadst  thou  it  ?  '     And  I :  '  The  large  outpouring 
Of  Holy  Spirit,  which  has  been  diffused 
Upon  the  ancient  parchments  and  the  new, 

A  syllogism  is,  which  proved  it  to  me 

With  such  acuteness,  that,  compared  therewith, 
All  demonstration  seems  to  me  obtuse.' 

And  then  I  heard  :  '  The  ancient  and  the  new 
Postulates,  that  to  thee  are  so  conclusive, 
Why  dost  thou  take  them  for  the  word  divine  ?  ' 

And  I :  '  The  proofs,  which  show  the  truth  to  me, 
Are  the  works  subsequent,  whereunto  Nature 
Ne'er  heated  iron  yet,  nor  anvil  beat.7 

'T  was  answered  me  :  *  Say,  who  assureth  thee 
That  those  works  ever  were  ?  the  thing  itself 
That  must  be  proved,  naught  else  to  thee  affirms  it.' 

*  Were  the  world  to  Christianity  converted,' 


what  believest  thou  ?  by  what  means  ?'     257 

I  said,  '  withouten  miracles,  this  one 

Is  such,  the  rest  are  not  its  hundredth  part ; 

Because  that  poor  and  fasting  thou  didst  enter 
Into  the  field  to  sow  there  the  good  plant, 
Which  was  a  vine  and  has  become  a  thorn  ! ' 

This  being  finished,  the  high,  holy  Court 

Resounded  through  the  spheres,  '  One  God  we  praise  ! ' 
In  melody  that  there  above  is  chanted. 

And  then  that  Baron,  who  from  branch  to  branch, 
Examining,  had  thus  conducted  me, 
Till  the  extremest  leaves  we  were  approaching, 

Again  began  :  '  The  grace  that  dallying 

Plays  with  thine  intellect  thy  mouth  has  opened 
Up  to  this  point,  as  it  should  opened  be, 

So  that  I  do  approve  what  forth  emerged  ; 
But  now  thou  must  express  what  thou  believest, 
And  whence  to  thy  belief  it  was  presented.' 

*  O  holy  father,  Spirit  who  beholdest 

What  thou  believest  so  that  thou  o'ercamest, 
Towards  the  sepulchre,  more  youthful  feet,' 

Began  I,  '  thou  dost  wish  me  in  this  place 
The  form  to  manifest  of  my  prompt  belief, 
And  likewise  thou  the  cause  thereof  demandest. 

And  I  respond  :  In  one  God  I  believe, 

Sole  and  eterne,  Who  moveth  all  the  Heavens 
With  love  and  with  desire,  Himself  unmoved  ; 

And  of  such  faith  not  only  have  I  proofs 
Physical  and  metaphysical,  but  gives  them 
Likewise  the  truth  that  from  this  place  rains  down 

Through  Moses,  through  the  Prophets  and  the  Psalms, 
Through  the  Evangel,  and  through  you,  who  wrote 
After  the  fiery  Spirit  sanctified  you ; 

In  Persons  three  eterne  believe,  and  these 
One  essence  I  believe,  so  one  and  trine 

17 


258     S.  Peter  blesses  Dante. — S.  James  asks : 

They  bear  conjunction  both  with  sunt  and  est.1 
With  the  profound  condition  and  divine 

Which  now  I  touch  upon,  doth  stamp  my  mind 

Ofttimes  the  doctrine  evangelical. 
This  the  beginning  is,  this  is  the  spark 

Which  afterwards  dilates  to  vivid  flame, 

And,  like  a  star  in  heaven,  is  sparkling  in  me.' 
Even  as  a  lord  who  hears  what  pleaseth  him 

His  servant  straight  embraces,  gratulating 

For  the  good  news  as  soon  as  he  is  silent ; 
So,  giving  me  its  benediction,  singing, 

Three  times  encircled  me,  when  I  was  silent, 

The  apostolic  light,  at  whose  command 
I  spoken  had,  in  speaking  I  so  pleased  him. 

xxiv.  34-154- 

Alas  that  the   craving  next  expressed  was  never  satis- 
fied! 

If  e'er  it  happen  that  the  Poem  Sacred, 
To  which  both  Heaven  and  Earth  have  set  their  hand, 
So  that  it  many  a  year  hath  made  me  lean, 

O'ercome  the  cruelty  that  bars  me  out 
From  the  fair  sheepfold,  where  a  lamb  I  slumbered, 
An  enemy  to  the  wolves  that  war  upon  it, 

With  other  voice  forthwith,  with  other  fleece 
Poet  will  I  return,  and  at  my  font 
Baptismal  will  I  take  the  laurel  crown  ; 

Because  into  the  Faith  that  maketh  known 
All  souls  to  God  there  entered  I,  and  then 
Peter  for  her  sake  thus  my  brow  encircled. 

xxv.  1-12. 

S.  James  the  Great  then  issued  from  the  Apostolic  Choir. 
1  Are  and  is. 


1  What  is  Hope  ?  hast  thou  Hope  ?  whence  /"  259 

Dante  evidently  attributes  to  him  —  not,  like  modern  com- 
mentators, to  S.  James  the  Less  —  the  General  Epistle  which 
specially  inspires  Hope  by  its  boundless  promises  to  prayer  : 
'  If  any  of  you  lack  wisdom,  let  him  ask  of  God,  that  giv- 
eth  to  all  men  liberally,  and  upbraideth  not ;  and  it  shall  be 
given  him.'  '  Every  good  gift  and  every  perfect  gift  is  from 
above,  and  cometh  down  from  the  Father  of  lights,  with 
Whom  is  no  variableness,  neither  shadow  of  turning/  * 

Smiling  thereafterwards,  said  Beatrice  : 
4  Illustrious  life,  by  whom  the  benefactions 
Of  our  Basilica  have  been  described, 

Make  Hope  resound  within  this  altitude  ; 
Thou  knowest  as  oft  thou  dost  personify  it 
As  Jesus  to  the  three  gave  greater  clearness.'  — 

*  Lift  up  thy  head,  and  make  thyself  assured  ; 
For  what  comes  hither  from  the  mortal  world 
Must  needs  be  ripened  in  our  radiance.' 

This  comfort  came  to  me  from  the  second  fire  ; 
Wherefore  mine  eyes  I  lifted  to  the  hills, 
Which  bent  them  down  before  with  too  great  weight. 

'  Since  through  His  grace  our  Emperor  wills  that  thou 
Shouldst  find  thee  face  to  face,  before  thy  death, 
In  the  most  secret  chamber,  with  His  Counts, 

So  that,  the  truth  beholden  of  this  court,2 

Hope,  which  below  there  rightfully  enamours, 
Thereby  thou  strengthen  in  thyself  and  others, 

Say  what  it  is,  and  how  is  flowering  with  it 

Thy  mind,  and  say  from  whence  it  came  to  thee.' 
Thus  did  the  second  light  again  continue. 

xxv.  28-48. 

1  S.  James  i.  5,  17. 

2  Having  actually  beheld  the  very  truth  of  this  Court  of  Heaven. 


260     Dante  has  Hope :  what  it  is :  whence. 

But  the   second  question  was   one   Dante  could  hardly 
answer  without  vainglory : 

And  the  Compassionate,  who  piloted 

The  plumage  of  my  wings  in  such  high  flight, 

Did  in  reply  anticipate  me  thus  : 
*  No  child  whatever  the  Church  Militant 

Of  greater  hope  possesses,  as  is  written 

In  that  Sun  which  irradiates  all  our  band ; 
Therefore  it  is  conceded  him  from  Egypt 

To  come  into  Jerusalem  to  see, 

Or  ever  yet  his  warfare  be  completed. 
The  two  remaining  points,  that  not  for  knowledge 

Have  been  demanded,  but  that  he  report 

How  much  this  virtue  unto  thee  is  pleasing, 
To  him  I  leave ;  for  hard  he  will  not  find  them, 

Nor  of  self-praise  ;  and  let  him  answer  them  ; 

And  may  the  grace  of  God  in  this  assist  him  ! ' 
As  a  disciple,  who  his  teacher  follows, 

Ready  and  willing,  where  he  is  expert, 

That  his  proficiency  may  be  displayed, 
'Hope,'  said  I,  'is  the  certain  expectation 

Of  future  glory,  which  is  the  effect 

Of  grace  divine  and  merit  precedent.' l 
From  many  stars  this  light  comes  unto  me  ; 

But  he  instilled  it  first  into  my  heart 

Who  was  chief  singer  unto  the  chief  Captain. 
« Sperent  in  Te?  2  in  the  high  Theody 

He  sayeth,  *  those  who  know  Thy  Name ;  and  who 

Knoweth  it  not,  if  he  my  faith  possess  ? 
Thou  didst  instil  me,  then,  with  his  instilling 

1  This  definition  of  Hope  is  from  Peter  Lombard  the  Master  of  Sen- 
tences, whom  we  saw  in  the  First  Garland  of  holy  Doctors  (p.  231). 

2  Let  them  hope  in  Thee.     Ps.  ix.  u,  Vulgate;  ix.  10,  E.P.V. 


'  What  doth  Hope  promise  thee  ?'        261 

In  the  Epistle,  so  that  I  am  full, 

And  upon  others  rain  again  your  rain.' 
While  I  was  speaking,  in  the  living  bosom 

Of  that  combustion  quivered  an  effulgence, 

Sudden  and  frequent,  in  the  guise  of  lightning  ; 
Then  breathed  :  «  The  love  wherewith  I  am  inflamed 

Towards  the  virtue  still  which  followed  me 

Unto  the  palm  and  issue  of  the  field, 
Wills  that  I  breathe  to  thee  that  thou  delight 

In  her  ;  and  grateful  to  me  is  thy  telling 

Whatever  things  Hope  promises  to  thee.' 
And  I :  '  The  ancient  Scriptures  and  the  new 

The  mark  establish,  and  this  shows  it  me, 

Of  all  the  souls  whom  God  hath  made  His  friends.1 
Isaiah  saith,  that  each  one  garmented 

In  his  own  land  shall  be  with  twofold  garments, 

And  his  own  land  is  this  delightful  life. 
Thy  brother,  too,  far  more  explicitly, 

There  where  he  treateth  of  the  robes  of  white, 

This  revelation  manifests  to  us.' 
And  first,  and  near  the  ending  of  these  words, 

*  Sperent  in  Te '  from  over  us  was  heard, 

To  which  responsive  answered  all  the  carols. 

xxv.  49-99. 

Isaiah's  words  referred  to  above  are  these  :  '  Therefore  in 
their  land  they  shall  possess  the  double ;  everlasting  joy 
shall  be  unto  them  : ' 2  —  and  '  the  double '  is  interpreted  of 
the  soul's  beatitude  and  the  body's  glorification. 

S.  John  now  came  and  stood  with  his  two  brethren :  and 
Dante,  eager  to  ascertain  by  his  possessing  or  not  a  body  of 

1  Both  Testaments  fix  the  mark  to  be  aimed  at  by  all  the  friends  of 
God ;  and  this  Heaven  in  which  I  stand  actually  places  that  mark 
before  my  eyes.  2  Isaiah  Ixi.  7. 


262     vS.  John  asks :  '  Whom  loves t  thou?  by  what 

flesh  the  truth  or  falsehood  of  the  belief '  that  that  disciple 
should  not  die,'  gazed  at  him  so  fixedly  that  soon  the  blind- 
ness of  dazzling  ensued.  S.  John  assured  him  that  none, 
save  only  the  Lord  and  His  Mother,  wears  as  yet  in  Heaven 
the  twofold  garment ;  and  while  blindness  still  prolonged 
inability  to  discern  even  Beatrice,  consoled  him  with  the 
promise  of  restoration  by  her  power,  and  examined  him 
concerning  Love,  asking  first  whereon  his  soul  stayed  itself. 
The  answer  came  : 

'  The  Good,  that  gives  contentment  to  this  Court, 
The  Alpha  and  Omega  is  of  all 
The  writing  that  love  reads  me  low  or  loud.' 

The  selfsame  voice,  that  taken  had  from  me 
The  terror  of  the  sudden  dazzlement, 
To  speak  still  farther  put  it  in  my  thought ; 

And  said  :  '  In  verity  with  finer  sieve 

Behooveth  thee  to  sift ;  thee  it  behooveth 
To  say  who  aimed  thy  bow  at  such  a  target.' 

And  I  :   '  By  philosophic  arguments, 
And  by  authority  that  hence  descends, 
Such  love  must  needs  imprint  itself  in  me  ; 

For  Good,  so  far  as  good,  when  comprehended 
Doth  straight  enkindle  love,  and  so  much  greater 
As  more  of  goodness  in  itself  it  holds  ; 

Then  to  that  Essence  (Whose  is  such  advantage 
That  every  good  which  out  of  It  is  found 
Is  nothing  but  a  ray  of  Its  own  light) 

Moue  than  elsewhithermiust  the  mind  be  moved 
Of  every  one,  in  loving,  who  discerns 
The  truth  in  which  this  evidence  is  founded. 

Such  truth  he *  to  my  intellect  reveals 

1  Probably  Aristotle. 


means  ?  wherefore  ?  what  else  in  Him  /"    263 

Who  demonstrates  to  me  the  Primal  Love 
Of  all  the  sempiternal  substances. 

The  voice  reveals  it  of  the  truthful  Author, 
Who  says  to  Moses,  speaking  of  Himself, 
"  I  will  make  all  My  goodness  pass  before  thee.'' 

Thou  too  revealest  it  to  me,  beginning 
The  loud  Evangel,  that  proclaims  the  secret 
Of  Heaven  to  Earth  above  all  other  edict.' 

And  I  heard  say  :  *  By  human  intellect 
And  by  authority  concordant  with  it, 
Of  all  thy  loves  reserve  for  God  the  highest. 

But  say  again  if  other  cords  thou  feelest 

Draw  thee  towards  Him,  that  thou  mayst  proclaim 
With  how  many  teeth  this  love  is  biting  thee.' 

The  holy  purpose  of  the  Eagle  of  Christ 
Not  latent  was,  nay,  rather  I  perceived 
Whither  he  fain  would  my  profession  lead. 

Therefore  I  recommenced  :  *  All  of  those  bites 
Which  have  the  power  to  turn  the  heart  to  God 
Unto  my  charity  have  been  concurrent. 

The  being  of  the  world,  and  my  own  being, 
The  death  which  He  endured  that  I  may  live, 
And  that  which  all  the  faithful  hope,  as  I  do, 

With  the  forementioned  vivid  consciousness 
Have  drawn  me  from  the  sea  of  love  perverse, 
And  of  the  right  have  placed  me  on  the  shore. 

The  leaves,  wherewith  embowered  is  all  the  garden 
Of  the  Eternal  Gardener,  do  I  love 
As  much  as  He  has  granted  them  of  good.' 

As  soon  as  I  had  ceased,  a  song  most  sweet 

Throughout  the  Heaven  resounded,  and  my  Lady 
Said  with  the  others,  '  Holy,  holy,  holy  ! ' 

xxvi.  16-69. 


264  Adam  sets  forth 

Then  Beatrice  by  her  healing  gaze  restored,  nay  strength- 
ened the  sight  of  her  Beloved;  and  amazed  he  asked 
respecting  a  fourth  resplendent  Spirit  standing  with  the 
three. 

And  said  my  Lady :  *  There  within  those  rays 
Gazes  upon  its  Maker  the  first  Soul 
That  ever  the  first  Virtue  did  create.' 

Even  as  the  bough  that  downward  bends  its  top 
At  transit  of  the  wind,  and  then  is  lifted 
By  its  own  virtue,  which  inclines  it  upward, 

Likewise  did  I,  the  while  that  she  was  speaking, 
Being  amazed,  and  then  I  was  made  bold 
By  a  desire  to  speak  wherewith  I  burned. 

And  I  began  :  '  O  apple,  that  mature 

Alone  hast  been  produced,  O  ancient  father, 

To  whom  each  wife  is  daughter  and  daughter-in-law, 

Devoutly  as  I  can  I  supplicate  thee 
That  thou  wouldst  speak  to  me ;  thou  seest  my  wish, 
And  I,  to  hear  thee  quickly,  speak  it  not.' 

Sometimes  an  animal,  when  covered,  struggles 
So  that  his  impulse  needs  must  be  apparent, 
By  reason  of  the  wrappage  following  it ; 

And  in  like  manner  the  primeval  soul 
Made  clear  to  me  athwart  its  covering 
How  jubilant  it  was  to  give  me  pleasure. 

Then  breathed :  '  Without  thy  uttering  it  to  me, 
Thine  inclination  better  I  discern 
Than  thou  whatever  thing  is  surest  to  thee  ; 

For  I  behold  it  in  the  truthful  Mirror, 

That  of  Himself  all  things  parhelion  makes,1 
And  none  makes  Him  parhelion  of  itself. 

1  '  Parhelion  is  an  imperfect  image  of  the  sun,  formed  by  reflection 
in  the  clouds.  All  things  are  such  faint  reflections  of  the  Creator ; 
but  He  is  the  reflection  of  none  of  them.' 


four  points  concerning  himself.          265 

Thou  fain  wouldst  hear  how  long  ago  God  placed  me 
Within  the  lofty  garden,  where  this  Lady 
Unto  so  long  a  stairway  thee  disposed. 

And  how  long  to  mine  eyes  it  was  a  pleasure, 
And  of  the  great  disdain  the  proper  cause,1 
And  the  language  that  I  used  and  that  I  made. 

Now,  son  of  mine,  the  tasting  of  the  tree 
Not  in  itself  was  cause  of  so  great  exile, 
But  solely  the  o'erstepping  of  the  bounds. 

There,  whence  thy  Lady  moved  Virgilius, 

Four  thousand  and  three  hundred  and  two  circuits 
Made  by  the  sun,  this  Council  I  desired  ; 

And  him  I  saw  return  to  all  the  lights 

Of  his  highway  nine  hundred  times  and  thirty, 
Whilst  I  upon  the  earth  was  tarrying. 

The  language  that  I  spake  was  quite  extinct 
Before  that  in  the  work  interminable 
The  people  under  Nimrod  were  employed  ; 

For  nevermore  result  of  reasoning 
(Because  of  human  pleasure  that  doth  change, 
Obedient  to  the  Heavens)  was  durable. 

A  natural  action  is  it  that  man  speaks ; 

But  whether  thus  or  thus,  doth  nature  leave 
To  your  own  art,  as  seemeth  best  to  you. 

Ere  I  descended  to  the  infernal  anguish, 
El  was  on  earth  the  name  of  the  Chief  Good, 
From  Whom  comes  all  the  joy  that  wraps  me  round  ; 

Eli  He  then  was  called,  and  that  is  proper, 
Because  the  use  of  men  is  like  a  leaf 
On  bough,  which  goeth  and  another  cometh. 

Upon  the  mount  that  highest  o'er  the  wave 
Rises  was  I,  in  life  or  pure  or  sinful, 

1  The  precise  cause  why  the  eating  of  the  fruit  brought  on  Man  the 
exceeding  Wrath  of  God. 


266       The  ascent  to  the  Primum  Mobile. 

From  the  first  hour  to  that  which  is  the  second, 
As  the  sun  changes  quadrant,  to  the  sixth.' J 

xxvi.  82-142. 

But  lo  a  change  in  the  face  of  Heaven.  S.  Peter's  white 
effulgence,  and  sympathetically  that  of  all  the  Blessed, 
flushed  indignant  red  as  he  descanted  on  the  earthliness, 
worldliness,  and  violence,  too  often  tainting  his  Holy  See. 
And  after  charging  him  who  was  to  return  among  men  not 
to  hide  what  he  himself  had  not  hidden,  with  the  whole 
light-storm  of  triumphant  Saints  he  swept  up  into  the 
Empyrean.  When  they  could  be  seen  no  more,  Beatrice 
invited  one  last  look  towards  Earth;  and  Dante  having 
beheld  it  all  reduced  to  pettiness,  returned  to  gaze  on  the 
countenance  where  all  was  greatness.  Gazing  he  was  again 
uplifted,  and  they  stood  together  in  the  Primum  Mobile  : 

1  And  in  this  Heaven  there  is  no  other  Where 
Than  in  the  Mind  Divine,  Wherein  is  kindled 
The  love  that  turns  it,  and  the  power  it  rains. 

Within  a  circle  light  and  love  embrace  it, 

Even  as  this  doth  the  others,  and  that  precinct 

He  who  encircles  it  alone  controls.' 

xxvn.  109-114. 

And  Beatrice  lamented  the  sore  corruptions  which  leave 
human  innocence  and  faith  the  portion  of  babes  alone  :  and 
Dante  turned  even  from  her  eyes  to  contemplate  the 
peculiar  vision  of  the  Ninth  Heaven,  the  circling  of  the 
Angelic  Hierarchy  round  the  Divine  Centre. 

A  Point  beheld  I  that  was  raying  out 

Light  so  acute,  the  sight  which  It  enkindles 
Must  close  perforce  before  such  great  acuteness. 

1  See  page  15. 


The  Nine  Angelic  Circles.  267 

And  whatsoever  star  seems  smallest  here 
Would  seem  to  be  a  moon  if  placed  beside  It 
As  one  star  with  another  star  is  placed. 

Perhaps  at  such  a  distance  as  appears 
A  halo  cincturing  the  light  that  paints  it, 
When  densest  is  the  vapor  that  sustains  it, 

Thus  distant  round  the  Point  a  circle  of  fire 
So  swiftly  whirled,  that  it  would  have  surpassed 
Whatever  motion  soonest  girds  the  world ; 

And  this  was  by  another  circumcinct, 
That  by  a  third,  the  third  then  by  a  fourth, 
By  a  fifth  the  fourth,  and  then  by  a  sixth  the  fifth ; 

The  seventh  followed  thereupon  in  width 
So  ample  now,  that  Juno's  messenger 
Entire  would  be  too  narrow  to  contain  it. 

Even  so  the  eighth  and  ninth  ;  and  every  one 
More  slowly  moved,  according  as  it  was 
In  number  distant  farther  from  the  first. 

And  that  one  had  its  flame  most  crystalline 

From  which  less  distant  was  the  stainless  Spark, 
I  think  because  more  with  Its  truth  imbued. 

My  Lady,  who  in  my  anxiety 

Beheld  me  much  perplexed,  said  :  '  From  that  Point 
Dependent  is  the  Heaven  and  nature  all. 

Behold  that  circle  most  conjoined  to  It, 
And  know  thou,  that  its  motion  is  so  swift 
Through  burning  love  whereby  it  is  spurred  on.' 

xxvin.  16-45. 

Dante  inquired  why  the  order  of  these  Angelic  Circles  is 
inverse  to  that  of  the  Heavens,  and  was  answered  by  his 
Lady  that  such  inversion  is  only  in  respect  of  extension ;  in 
respect  of  virtue  and  influential  action  there  is  direct  cor- 
respondence.1 

1  See  also  page  13. 


268      Where,  when,  how  the  Angels  were  created. 

And  soon  as  to  a  stop  her  words  had  come, 
Not  otherwise  does  iron  scintillate 
When  molten,  than  those  circles  scintillated. 

Their  coruscation  all  the  sparks  repeated, 
And  they  so  many  were,  their  number  makes 
More  millions  than  the  doubling  of  the  chess. 

I  heard  them  sing  hosanna  choir  by  choir 
To  the  fixed  Point  which  holds  them  at  the  Ubi* 
And  ever  will,  where  they  have  ever  been. 

xxvin.  88-96. 

A  farther  discourse,  after  teaching  the  names  of  the  Nine 
Angelic  Choirs,  and  their  division  into  three  Triads,2 
assigned  the  true  knowledge  of  their  hierarchic  order  rather 
to  S.  Dionysius  the  Areopagite,  the  disciple  of  that  Master 
who  had  actually  been  caught  up  to  the  Third  Heaven^ 
than  to  S.  Gregory  the  Great  in  the  points  where  the  two 
are  discrepant.  —  And  after  a  pause  Beatrice  satisfied  Dante's 
thirst  for  the  knowledge  of  the  where,  the  when,  and  the 
how  of  the  creation  of  the  Angels. 

*  Not  to  acquire  some  good  unto  Himself, 
Which  is  impossible,  but  that  His  splendor8 
In  its  resplendency  may  say,  "  Subsisto" 

In  His  eternity  outside  of  time, 

Outside  all  other  limits,  as  it  pleased  Him, 
Into  new  Loves  the  Eternal  Love  unfolded. 

Nor  as  if  torpid  did  He  lie  before  ; 

For  neither  after  nor  before  proceeded 
The  going  forth  of  God  upon  these  waters.' 

xxix.  13-21. 

1  'Their  appointed  place  or  whereabout.' 

8  See  page  12. 

8  The  Creation,  which  is  the  '  splendor  '  or  reflected  light  of  God. 


Of  the  rebel  and  the  obedient  Angels.     269 

The  points  next  set  forth  were  the  relations  between 
active  Form  or  Mind  and  passive  Matter,1  and  the  simul- 
taneous creation  of  the  Angels  and  the  Heavens.2  Beatrice 
then  —  digressing  by  the  way  to  refute  an  opinion  of  the 
Schools  and  animadvert  on  the  profitless  speculations  of 
Preachers  —  passed  on  to  treat  of  the  rebel  Angels ;  of 
their  Fall,  its  effect  on  the  Elemental  World,  its  cause  :  — 
and  of  the  obedient  Angels ;  of  their  occupation,  their  in- 
defectibility,  their  number,  their  love  proportioned  to  their 
mode  of  perception  of  the  Beatific  Vision. 

*  Nor  could  one  reach,  in  counting,  unto  twenty 
So  swiftly,  as  a  portion  of  these  angels 
Disturbed  the  subject  of  your  elements.8 

The  rest  remained,  and  they  began  this  art 
Which  thou  discernest,  with  so  great  delight 
That  never  from  their  circling  do  they  cease. 

The  occasion  of  the  fall  was  the  accursed 

Presumption  of  that  One,  whom  thou  hast  seen 
By  all  the  burden  of  the  world  constrained. 

Those  whom  thou  here  beholdest  modest  were 
To  recognize  themselves  as  of  that  Goodness 
Which  made  them  apt  for  so  much  understanding  ; 

On  which  account  their  vision  was  exalted 

By  the  enlightening  grace  and  their  own  merit, 
So  that  they  have  a  full  and  steadfast  will. 

I  would  not  have  thee  doubt,  but  certain  be, 
'T  is  meritorious  to  receive  this  grace,4 
According  as  the  affection  opens  to  it. 


1  See  page  13.  2  See  page  14. 

8  '  The  subject  of  the  elements  is  the  earth,  so  called  as  being  the 
lowest,  or  underlying  the  others,  fire,  air,  and  water.' 

4  '  The  merit  consists  in  being  willing  to  receive  this  grace/ 


270          The  ascent  into  the  Empyrean. 

This  nature  doth  so  multiply  itself 

In  numbers,  that  there  never  yet  was  speech 

Nor  mortal  fancy  that  can  go  so  far. 
And  if  thou  notest  that  which  is  revealed 

By  Daniel,  thou  wilt  see  that  in  his  thousands 

Number  determinate  is  kept  concealed. 
The  primal  Light,  that  all  irradiates  it, 

By  modes  as  many  is  received  therein, 

As  are  the  splendors  wherewith  It  is  mated. 
Hence,  inasmuch  as  on  the  act  conceptive 

The  affection  followeth,  of  love  the  sweetness 

Therein  diversely  fervid  is  or  tepid.1 
The  height  behold  now  and  the  amplitude 

Of  the  eternal  Power,  since  It  hath  made 

Itself  so  many  mirrors,  where  't  is  broken, 
One  in  Itself  remaining  as  before.' 

xxix.  49-66,  130-145. 

But  now,  even  as  star  after  star  pales  in  the  effacing 
sunlight,  so  Choir  after  Choir  was  extinguished  from  Dante's 
view ;  and  a  crowning  gaze  on  Beatrice's  consummated 
beauty  revealed  the  accomplished  ascent  into  the  Empyrean. 

From  the  first  day  that  I  beheld  her  face 
In  this  life,  to  the  moment  of  this  look, 
The  sequence  of  my  song  has  ne'er  been  severed; 

But  now  perforce  this  sequence  must  desist 
From  following  her  beauty  with  my  verse, 
As  every  artist  at  his  uttermost. 

Such  as  I  leave  her  to  a  greater  fame 

1  The  Light  of  God,  Which  irradiates  all  this  angelic  nature,  is  re- 
ceived therein  in  modes  corresponding  in  number  to  the  Angels  them- 
selves, the  splendors  or  reflected  lights  wherewith  it  is  united.  Hence, 
inasmuch  as  the  affection  corresponds  to  the  capacity  of  receiving  the 
Divine  Light,  the  sweetness  of  love  in  this  angelic  nature  is  different 
in  degrees  of  warmth. 


The  two  hosts  of  Paradise.  271 

Than  any  of  my  trumpet,  which  is  bringing 
Its  arduous  matter  to  a  final  close, 

With  voice  and  gesture  of  a  perfect  leader 

She  recommenced  :  '  We  from  the  greatest  body 
Have  issued  to  the  Heaven  that  is  pure  light ; 

Light  intellectual  replete  with  love, 
Love  of  true  good  replete  with  ecstasy, 
Ecstasy  that  transcendeth  every  sweetness. 

Here  shalt  thou  see  the  one  host  and  the  other 
Of  Paradise,  and  one  in  the  same  aspects 
Which  at  the  final  judgment  thou  shalt  see.' 

xxx.  28-45. 

The  two  hosts  are  of  course  the  Angels  and  the  Saints : 
but  commentators  are  not  unanimous  in  deciding  which  is 
referred  to  as  wearing  the  same  aspects  that  will  be  seen  at 
the  Last  Judgment.  Some  think  the  Angels  are  meant :  — 
this  view  is  not  only  based  on  indisputable  fact,  but  is  also 
favored  by  the  order  of  the  words,  and  by  their  seeming 
exclusion  of '  the  other '  host  from  that  which  they  predicate. 
Others  think  the  Saints  are  meant;  these  can  allege  that 
seeming  need  not  be  real  exclusion,  that  it  would  have  been 
utterly  useless  to  state  what  it  never  could  enter  into 
Dante's  head  to  doubt,  and  that  S.  Benedict 1  had  actually 
promised  that  in  the  Empyrean  the  Blessed  should  be  seen 
in  their  proper  forms. 

The  pilgrim,  already  by  anticipation  standing  in  the 
Better  Country  of  his  desire,  thus  continues  his  narration  : 

Even  as  a  sudden  lightning  that  disperses 
The  visual  spirits,  so  that  it  deprives 
The  eye  of  impress  from  the  strongest  objects, 

1  Par.  xxii.  58-63  ;  page  249. 


272      The  River,  the  Flowers,  and  the  Sparks. 

Thus  round  about  me  flashed  a  living  Light, 
And  left  me  swathed  around  with  such  a  veil 
Of  its  effulgence,  that  I  nothing  saw. 

*  Ever  the  Love  Which  quieteth  this  Heaven 
Welcomes  into  Itself  with  such  salute, 
To  make  the  candle  ready  for  its  flame.' 

No  sooner  had  within  me  these  brief  words 
An  entrance  found,  than  I  perceived  myself 
To  be  uplifted  over  my  own  power, 

And  I  with  vision  new  rekindled  me, 
Such  that  no  light  whatever  is  so  pure 
But  that  mine  eyes  were  fortified  against  it. 

xxx.  46-60. 

This  '  vision  new '  is  as  it  were  the  nucleus  of  that  by 
which  it  is  to  be  succeeded,  and  for  which  it  serves  to  pre- 
pare the  way.  The  Divine  Light  is  first  seen  in  the  form  of 
a  River,  signifying  Its  effusion  on  the  creatures  : 1  the  living 
Sparks  issuing  from  It  are  the  Angels;  the  Flowers  they 
ingem,  the  Saints.  Then  in  the  changing  of  the  River's 
length  to  the  Lake's  roundness  is  figured  the  return  of-all 
creatures  into  God  as  their  Centre  and  End.1  The  Rose 
and  the  Bees  we  know  already. 

And  Light  I  saw  in  fashion  of  a  river 

Fulvid  with  Its  effulgence,  'twixt  two  banks 

Depicted  with  an  admirable  Spring. 
Out  of  this  river  issued  living  sparks, 

And  on  all  sides  sank  down  into  the  flowers, 

Like  unto  rubies  that  are  set  in  gold ; 
And  then,  as  if  inebriate  with  the  odors, 

They  plunged  again  into  the  wondrous  torrent, 

1  Venturi  in  he. 


The  Vision  assumes  its  ultimate  form.     273 

And  as  one  entered  issued  forth  another. 

'  The  high  desire,  that  now  inflames  and  moves  thee 
To  have  intelligence  of  what  thou  seest, 
Pleaseth  me  all  the  more,  the  more  it  swells. 

But  of  this  water  it  behooves  thee  drink 
Before  so  great  a  thirst  in  thee  be  slaked.' 
Thus  said  to  me  the  sunshine  of  mine  eyes  ; 

And  added  :  '  The  river  and  the  topazes 

Going  in  and  out,  and  the  laughing  of  the  herbage, 
Are  of  their  truth  foreshadowing  prefaces; 

Not  that  these  things  are  difficult  in  themselves, 
But  the  deficiency  is  on  thy  side, 
For  yet  thou  hast  not  vision  so  exalted.' 

There  is  no  babe  that  leaps  so  suddenly 
With  face  towards  the  milk,  if  he  awake 
Much  later  than  his  usual  custom  is, 

As  I  did,  that  I  might  make  better  mirrors 
Still  of  mine  eyes,  down  stooping  to  the  wave 
Which  flows  that  we  therein  be  better  made. 

And  even  as  the  penthouse  of  mine  eyelids 
Drank  of  it,  it  forthwith  appeared  to  me 
Out  of  its  length  to  be  transformed  to  round. 

Then  as  a  folk  who  have  been  under  masks 
Seem  other  than  before,  if  they  divest 
The  semblance  not  their  own  they  disappeared  in, 

Thus  into  greater  pomp  were  changed  for  me 
The  flowerets  and  the  sparks,  so  that  I  saw 
Both  of  the  Courts  of  Heaven  made  manifest. 

O  splendor  of  God  !  by  means  of  which  I  saw 
The  lofty  triumph  of  the  realm  veracious, 
Give  me  the  power  to  say  how  it  I  saw  ! 

There  is  a  Light  above,  which  visible 
Makes  the  Creator  unto  every  creature, 
Who  only  in  beholding  Him  has  peace, 
18 


274  The  Lake  and  the  Rose. 

And  it  expands  itself  in  circular  form 
To  such  extent,  that  its  circumference 
Would  be  too  large  a  girdle  for  the  sun. 

The  semblance  of  it  is  all  made  of  rays 
Reflected  from  the  top  of  Primal  Motion,1 
Which  takes  therefrom  vitality  and  power. 

And  as  a  hill  in  water  at  its  base 
Mirrors  itself,  as  if  to  see  its  beauty 
When  affluent  most  in  verdure  and  in  flowers, 

So,  ranged  aloft  all  round  about  the  Light 

Mirrored  I  saw  in  more  ranks  than  a  thousand 
All  who  above  there  have  from  us  returned. 

And  if  the  lowest  row  collect  within  it 
So  great  a  light,  how  vast  the  amplitude 
Is  of  this  Rose  in  its  extremest  leaves  ! 

My  vision  in  the  vastness  and  the  height 
Lost  not  itself,  but  comprehended  all 
The  quantity  and  quality  of  that  gladness. 

There  near  and  far  nor  add  nor  take  away ; 
For  there  where  God  immediately  doth  govern, 
The  natural  law  in  naught  is  relevant. 

Into  the  yellow  of  the  Rose  Eternal 
That  spreads,  and  multiplies,  and  breathes  an  odor 
Of  praise  unto  the  ever- vernal  Sun, 

As  one  who  silent  is  and  fain  would  speak, 
Me  Beatrice  drew  on,  and  said  :  '  Behold 
Of  the  white  stoles  how  vast  the  convent  is  ! 

Behold  how  vast  the  circuit  of  our  city  ! 
Behold  our  seats  so  filled  to  overflowing, 
That  here  henceforward  are  few  people  wanting! ' 

xxx.  61-132. 


1  See  page  12. 


The  Angelic  Bees.  275 

Then  Beatrice  indicated  the  throne  specially  prepared 
for  the  Emperor  Henry  of  Luxemburg,  and  destined  to  be 
occupied  all  too  soon  for  Dante's  patriotic  hopes: — re- 
proved the  blindness  of  Italy  to  her  true  good,  and  heavily 
denounced  Pope  Clement  V.  as  Henry's  covert  opponent. 

In  fashion  then  as  of  a  snow-white  rose 
Displayed  itself  to  me  the  saintly  host, 
Whom  Christ  in  His  own  blood  had  made  His  bride. 

But  the  other  host,  that  flying  sees  and  sings 
The  glory  of  Him  Who  doth  enamour  it, 
And  the  goodness  that  created  it  so  noble, 

Even  as  a  swarm  of  bees,  that  sinks  in  flowers 
One  moment,  and  the  next  returns  again 
To  where  its  labor  is  to  sweetness  turned, 

Sank  into  the  great  flower,  that  is  adorned 
With  leaves  so  many,  and  thence  reascended 
To  where  its  love  abideth  evermore. 

Their  faces  had  they  all  of  living  flame, 
And  wings  of  gold,  and  all  the  rest  so  white 
No  snow  unto  that  limit  doth  attain. 

From  bench  to  bench,  into  the  flower  descending, 
They  carried  something  of  the  peace  and  ardor 
Which  by  the  fanning  of  their  flanks  they  won. 

Nor  did  the  interposing  'twixt  the  flower 
And  that  was  o'er  it  of  such  plenitude 
Of  flying  shapes  impede  the  sight  and  splendor; 

Because  the  Light  Divine  so  penetrates 
The  universe,  according  to  its  merit, 
That  naught  can  be  an  obstacle  against  it. 

This  realm  secure  and  full  of  gladsomeness, 
Crowded  with  ancient  people  and  with  modern, 
Unto  one  mark  had  all  its  look  and  love. 


276  From  Earth  to  Heaven. 

0  Trinal  Light,  That  in  a  single  star 
Sparkling  upon  their  sight  so  satisfies  them, 
Look  down  upon  our  tempest  here  below ! 

If  the  barbarians,  coming  from  some  region 
That  every  day  by  Helice  is  covered,1 
Revolving  with  her  son  whom  she  delights  in,  2 

Beholding  Rome  and  all  her  noble  works, 
Were  wonder-struck,  what  time  the  Lateran 
Above  all  mortal  things  was  eminent,  — 

1  who  to  the  divine  had  from  the  human, 
From  time  unto  eternity,  had  come, 
From  Florence  to  a  people  just  and  sane, 

With  what  amazement  must  I  have  been  filled  ! 
Truly  between  this  and  the  joy,  it  was 
My  pleasure  not  to  hear,  and  to  be  mute. 

And  as  a  pilgrim  who  delighteth  him 
In  gazing  round  the  temple  of  his  vow, 
And  hopes  some  day  to  retell  how  it  was, 

So  through  the  living  Light  my  way  pursuing 
Directed  I  mine  eyes  o'er  all  the  ranks, 
Now  up,  now  down,  and  now  all  round  about. 

Faces  I  saw  of  charity  persuasive. 

Embellished  by  His  light  and  their  own  smile, 
And  attitudes  adorned  with  every  grace. 

The  general  form  of  Paradise  already 
My  glance  had  comprehended  as  a  whole, 
In  no  part  hitherto  remaining  fixed, 

And  round  I  turned  me  with  rekindled  wish 
My  Lady  to  interrogate  of  things 
Concerning  which  my  mind  was  in  suspense. 

One  thing  I  meant,  another  answered  me  ; 

1  The  Great  Bear.  2  The  Little  Bear. 


Beatrice  has  resumed  her  throne,        277 

I  thought  I  should  see  Beatrice,  and  saw 

An  Old  Man  habited  like  the  glorious  people. 
O'erflowing  was  he  in  his  eyes  and  cheeks 

With  joy  benign,  in  attitude  of  pity 

As  to  a  tender  father  is  becoming. 
And  '  She,  where  is  she  ?  '  instantly  I  said  ; 

Whence  he  :  'To  put  an  end  to  thy  desire, 

Me  Beatrice  hath  sent  from  mine  own  place. 
And  if  thou  lookest  up  to  the  third  round 

Of  the  first  rank,  again  shalt  thou  behold  her 

Upon  the  throne  her  merits  have  assigned  her.' 
Without  reply  I  lifted  up  mine  eyes, 

And  saw  her,  as  she  made  herself  a  crown 

Reflecting  from  herself  the  eternal  rays. 
Not  from  that  region  which  the  highest  thunders 

Is  any  mortal  eye  so  far  removed, 

In  whatsoever  sea  it  deepest  sinks, 
As  there  from  Beatrice  my  sight ;  but  this 

Was  nothing  unto  me  ;  because  her  image 

Descended  not  to  me  by  medium  blurred.1 
*  O  Lady,  thou  in  whom  my  hope  is  strong, 

And  who  for  my  salvation  didst  endure 

In  Hell  to  leave  the  imprint  of  thy  feet, 
Of  whatsoever  things  I  have  beheld, 

As  coming  from  thy  power  and  from  thy  goodness 

I  recognize  the  virtue  and  the  grace. 
Thou  from  a  slave  hast  brought  me  unto  freedom, 

By  all  those  ways,  by  all  the  expedients, 

Whereby  thou  hadst  the  power  of  doing  it. 
Preserve  towards  me  thy  magnificence, 

So  that  this  soul  of  mine,  which  thou  hast  healed, 

Pleasing  to  thee  be  loosened  from  the  body.' 

1  Through  no  such  medium  as  our  earthly  atmosphere,  or  any  other. 


278  S.  Bernard  of  Clairvaux. 

Thus  I  implored  ;  and  she,  so  far  away, 

Smiled,  as  it  seemed,  and  looked  once  more  at  me ; 
Then  unto  the  Eternal  Fountain  turned. 

And  said  the  Old  Man  holy  :  '  That  thou  mayst 
Accomplish  perfectly  thy  journeying, 
Whereunto  prayer  and  holy  love  have  sent  me, 

Fly  with  thine  eyes  all  round  about  this  garden  ; 
For  seeing  it  will  discipline  thy  sight 
Farther  to  mount  along  the  Ray  Divine. 

And  she,  the  Queen  of  Heaven,  for  whom  I  burn 
Wholly  with  love,  will  grant  us  every  grace, 
Because  that  I  her  faithful  Bernard  am.' 

XXXI.  I-I02. 

It  need  hardly  be  said  that  this  is  the  great  S.  Bernard, 
Abbot  of  Clairvaux,  the  singer  of  the  Most  Holy  Name  of 
Jesus  in  that  sweetest  hymn  which  has  kindled  and  ex- 
pressed the  love  of  generation  after  generation  from  his 
own  day  to  ours. 

As  he  who  peradventure  from  Croatia 
Cometh  to  gaze  at  our  Veronica,1 
Who  through  its  ancient  fame  is  never  sated, 

But  says  in  thought,  the  while  it  is  displayed, 
*  My  Lord,  Christ  Jesus,  God  of  very  God, 
Now  was  Your  semblance  made  like  unto  this  ? ' 

Even  such  was  I  while  gazing  at  the  living 
Charity  of  the  man,  who  in  this  world 
By  contemplation  tasted  of  that  peace. 

'  Thou  son  of  Grace,  this  jocund  life,'  began  he, 

1  The  '  Very  Image  '  of  our  Blessed  Lord,  impressed  by  Him  on  the 
handkerchief  piously  offered  Him  as  He  bore  His  Cross  by  a  holy 
woman,  to  whom  the  same  name  of  Veronica  is  given,  her  own  being 
uncertain. 


The  Mother  of  God.  279 

*  Will  not  be  known  to  thee  by  keeping  ever 
Thine  eyes  below  here  on  the  lowest  place  ; 

But  mark  the  circles  to  the  most  remote, 

Until  thou  shalt  behold  enthroned  the  Queen 
To  whom  this  realm  is  subject  and  devoted.' 

I  lifted  up  mine  eyes,  and  as  at  morn 
The  oriental  part  of  the  horizon 
Surpasses  that  wherein  the  sun  goes  down, 

Thus,  as  if  going  with  mine  eyes  from  vale 
To  mount,  I  saw  a  part  in  the  remoteness 
Surpass  in  splendor  all  the  other  front. 

And  even  as  there,  where  we  await  the  pole l 
That  Phaeton  drove  badly,  blazes  more 
The  light,  and  is  on  either  side  diminished, 

So  likewise  that  pacific  Oriflamme  2 

Gleamed  brightest  in  the  centre,  and  each  side 
In  equal  measure  did  the  flame  abate. 

And  at  that  centre,  with  their  wings  expanded, 
More  than  a  thousand  jubilant  Angels  saw  I, 
Each  differing  in  effulgence  and  in  kind. 

I  saw  there  at  their  sports  and  at  their  songs 
A  beauty  smiling,  which  the  gladness  was 
Within  the  eyes  of  all  the  other  saints  ; 

And  if  I  had  in  speaking  as  much  wealth 
As  in  imagining,  I  should  not  dare 
To  attempt  the  smallest  part  of  its  delight. 

Bernard,  as  soon  as  he  beheld  mine  eyes 
Fixed  and  intent  upon  its  fervid  fervor, 
His  own  with  such  affection  turned  to  her 

That  it  made  mine  more  ardent  to  behold. 

Absorbed  in  his  delight,  that  contemplator 
Assumed  the  willing  office  of  a  teacher, 

1  The  chariot  of  the  Sun.  2  The  Blessed  Virgin. 


280        The  vertical  division  of  the  Rose : 

And  gave  beginning  to  these  holy  words  : 

'  The  wound  that  Mary  closed  up  and  anointed, 
She  at  her  feet  who  is  so  beautiful, 
She  is  the  one  who  opened  it  and  pierced  it. 

Within  that  order  which  the  third  seats  make 
Is  seated  Rachel,  lower  than  the  other, 
With  Beatrice,  in  manner  as  thou  seest. 

Sarah,  Rebecca,  Judith,  and  her  who  was 
Ancestress  of  the  Singer,  who  for  dole 
Of  the  misdeed  said,  "  Miserere  mei" 

Canst  thou  behold  from  seat  to  seat  descending 
Down  in  gradation,  as  with  each  one's  name 
I  through  the  Rose  go  down  from  leaf  to  leaf. 

And  downward  from  the  seventh  row,  even  as 
Above  the  same,  succeed  the  Hebrew  women, 
Dividing  all  the  tresses  of  the  flower  ; 

Because,  according  to  the  view  which  Faith 
In  Christ  had  taken,  these  are  the  partition 
By  which  the  sacred  stairways  are  divided 

Upon  this  side,  where  perfect  is  the  flower 
With  each  one  of  its  petals,  seated  are 
Those  who  believed  in  Christ  Who  was  to  come. 

Upon  the  other  side,  where  intersected 
With  vacant  spaces  are  the  semicircles, 
Are  those  who  looked  to  Christ  already  come. 

And  as,  upon  this  side,  the  glorious  seat 
Of  the  Lady  of  Heaven,  and  the  other  seats 
Below  it,  such  a  great  division  make, 

So  opposite  doth  that  of  the  great  John, 
Who,  ever  holy,  desert  and  martyrdom 
Endured,  and  afterwards  two  years  in  Hell. 

And  under  him  thus  to  divide  were  chosen 
Francis,  and  Benedict,  and  Augustine, 
And  down  to  us  the  rest  from  round  to  round. 


the  horizontal  division.  —  Of  Elect  Babes.    281 


Behold  now  the  high  providence  divine  ; 

For  one  and  other  aspect  of  the  Faith 

In  equal  measure  shall  this  garden  fill. 
And  know  that  downward  from  that  rank  which  cleaves 

Midway  the  sequence  of  the  two  divisions, 

Not  by  their  proper  merit  are  they  seated; 
But  by  Another's  under  fixed  conditions  ; 

For  these  are  Spirits  one  and  all  assoiled 

Before  they  any  true  election  had. 
Well  canst  thou  recognize  it  in  their  faces, 

And  also  in  their  voices  puerile, 

If  thou  regard  them  well  and  hearken  to  them.' 

xxxi.  103-142.     xxxii.  1-48. 

S.  Bernard  then,  in  answer  to  a  doubt  he  beheld  in 
Dante's  mind,  set  forth  the  theory  of  the  varying  degrees  of 
grace  and  consequently  of  glory  in  Elect  Babes :  —  and 
further  explained  that  infant  salvation  has  ever  depended 
on  the  conjunction  of  something  else  with  innocence ;  in 
the  earliest  ages  the  faith  of  parents,  in  the  next  period 
Circumcision,  since  the  advent  of  grace  Baptism.  He  went 
on: 

'  Look  now  into  the  face  that  unto  Christ 

Hath  most  resemblance  ;  for  its  brightness  only 

Is  able  to  prepare  thee  to  see  Christ.' 
On  her  did  I  behold  so  great  a  gladness 

Rain  down,  borne  onward  in  the  holy  minds 

Created  through  that  altitude  to  fly, 
That  whatsoever  I  had  seen  before 

Did  not  suspend  me  in  such  admiration, 

Nor  show  me  such  similitude  of  God. 
And  the  same  Love  that  first  descended  there, 

'  Ave  Maria,  gratia  plena?  singing, 


282      The  Angel  Gabriel :  the  Saints  of  the 

In  front  of  her  his  wings  expanded  wide. 

Unto  the  canticle  divine  responded 
From  every  part  the  court  beatified, 
So  that  each  sight  became  serener  for  it. 

'  O  holy  father,  who  for  me  endurest 

To  be  below  here,  leaving  the  sweet  place 
In  which  thou  sittest  by  eternal  lot, 

Who  is  the  Angel  that  with  so  much  joy 
Into  the  eyes  is  looking  of  our  Queen, 
Enamoured  so  that  he  seems  made  of  fire  ? ' 

Thus  I  again  recourse  had  to  the  teaching 
Of  that  one  who  delighted  him  in  Mary 
As  doth  the  star  of  morning  in  the  sun. 

And  he  to  me :  '  Such  gallantry  and  grace 
As  there  can  be  in  Angel  and  in  soul, 
All  is  in  him  ;  and  thus  we  fain  would  have  it ; 

Because  he  is  the  one  who  bore  the  palm 
Down  unto  Mary,  when  the  Son  of  God 
To  take  our  burden  on  Himself  decreed. 

But  now  come  onward  with  thine  eyes,  as  I 

Speaking  shall  go,  and  note  the  great  patricians 
Of  this  most  just  and  merciful  of  empires. 

Those  two  that  sit  above  there  most  enraptured, 
As  being  very  near  unto  Augusta, 
Are  as  it  were  the  two  roots  of  this  Rose. 

He  who  upon  the  left  is  near  her  placed 
The  father  is,  by  whose  audacious  taste 
The  human  species  so  much  bitter  tastes. 

Upon  the  right  thou  seest  that  ancient  father 
Of  Holy  Church,  into  whose  keeping  Christ 
The  keys  committed  of  this  lovely  flower. 

And  he  who  all  the  evil  days  beheld, 

Before  his  death,  of  her  the  beauteous  bride 
Who  with  the  spear  and  with  the  nails  was  won, 


first  rank.  —  D  antes  sight  purified.      283 

Beside  him  sits,  and  by  the  other  rests 
That  leader  under  whom  on  manna  lived 
The  people  ingrate,  fickle,  and  stiff-necked. 

Opposite  Peter  seest  thou  Anna  seated, 
So  well  content  to  look  upon  her  daughter, 
Her  eyes  she  moves  not  while  she  sings  Hosanna. 

And  opposite  the  eldest  household  father 
Lucia  sits,  she  who  thy  Lady  moved 
When  to  rush  downward  thou  didst  bend  thy  brows. 

But  since  the  moments  of  thy  vision  fly, 
Here  will  we  make  full  stop,  as  a  good  tailor 
Who  makes  the  gown  according  to  his  cloth, 

And  unto  the  First  Love  will  turn  our  eyes, 
That  looking  upon  Him  thou  penetrate 
As  far  as  possible  through  His  effulgence.' 

xxxii.  85-144. 

The  Saint  invited  his  neophyte  to  join  in  invoking  the  aid 
of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  and  that  aid  was  granted  : 

And  I,  who  to  the  End  of  all  desires 
Was  now  approaching,  even  as  I  ought 
The  ardor  of  desire  within  me  ended. 

Bernard  was  beckoning  unto  me,  and  smiling, 
That  I  should  upward  look ;  but  I  already 
Was  of  my  own  accord  such  as  he  wished  ; 

Because  my  sight,  becoming  purified, 

Was  entering  more  and  more  into  the  ray 
Of  the  High  Light  which  of  Itself  is  true. 

From  that  time  forward  what  I  saw  was  greater 
Than  our  discourse,  that  to  such  vision  yields, 
And  yields  the  memory  unto  such  excess. 

Even  as  he  is  who  seeth  in  a  dream, 

And  after  dreaming  the  imprinted  passion 
Remains,  and  to  his  mind  the  rest  returns  not, 


284      D  antes  prayer :  —  his  Vision  of  the 

Even  such  am  I,  for  almost  utterly 
Ceases  my  vision,  and  distilleth  yet 
Within  my  heart  the  sweetness  born  of  it ; 

Even  thus  the  snow  is  in  the  sun  unsealed, 
Even  thus  upon  the  wind  in  the  light  leaves 
Were  the  soothsayings  of  the  Sibyl  lost.1 

0  Light  Supreme,  that  dost  so  far  uplift  Thee 
From  the  conceits  of  mortals,  to  my  mind 
Of  what  Thou  didst  appear  re-lend  a  little, 

And  make  my  tongue  of  so  great  puissance, 
That  but  a  single  sparkle  of  Thy  glory 
It  may  bequeath  unto  the  future  people; 

For  by  returning  to  my  memory  somewhat, 
And  by  a  little  sounding  in  these  verses, 
More  of  Thy  victory  shall  be  conceived  ! 

1  think  the  keenness  of  the  living  Ray 
Which  I  endured  would  have  bewildered  me, 
If  but  mine  eyes  had  been  averted  from  It ;  2 

And  I  remember  that  I  was  more  bold 
On  this  account  to  bear,  so  that  I  joined 
My  aspect  with  the  Glory  Infinite. 

xxxm.  46-81. 

And  then,  confessing  himself  all  impotent  to  tell,  Dante 
yet  tells  as  best  he  may  of  his  consummated  grace  in  the 
crowning  Vision  of  God  Triune,  God  Incarnate  : 

Not  because  more  than  one  unmingled  semblance 
Was  in  the  living  Light  on  Which  I  looked, 


1  The  Cumaean  Sibyl  wrote  her  oracles  on  leaves.  When  she  opened 
the  door  of  her  cavern,  these  were  blown  about  by  the  wind ;  and  she 
never  cared  to  re-arrange  them. 

2  Unlike  the  solar  ray,  this  Divine  Ray  strengthened  the  fixed  eye 
to  gaze  on  it. 


Blessed  Trinity  and  the  Word  Incarnate.     285 

For  It  is  always  what  It  was  before  ; 

But  through  the  sight,  that  fortified  itself 
In  me  by  looking,  one  appearance  only 
To  me  was  ever  changing  as  I  changed. 

Within  the  deep  and  luminous  subsistence 

Of  the  High  Light  appeared  to  me  Three  Circles, 
Of  threefold  color  and  of  one  dimension, 

And  by  the  Second  seemed  the  First  reflected 
As  Iris  is  by  Iris,  and  the  Third 
Seemed  Fire  that  equally  from  Both  is  breathed. 

O  how  all  speech  is  feeble  and  falls  short 
Of  my  conceit,  and  this  to  what  I  saw 
Is  such,  'tis  not  enough  to  call  it  little ! 

O  Light  Eterne,  sole  in  Thyself  that  dwellest, 
Sole  knowest  Thyself,  and,  known  unto  Thyself 
And  knowing,  lovest  and  smilest  on  Thyself  ! 

That  Circulation,1  Which  being  thus  conceived 
Appeared  in  Thee  as  a  reflected  Light, 
When  somewhat  contemplated  by  mine  eyes, 

Within  Itself,  of  Its  own  very  color 
Seemed  to  me  painted  with  our  effigy,2 
Wherefore  my  sight  was  all  absorbed  therein. 

As  the  geometrician,  who  endeavors 
To  square  the  circle,  and  discovers  not, 
By  taking  thought,  the  principle  he  wants, 

Even  such  was  I  at  that  new  apparition  ; 
I  wished  to  see  how  the  Image  to  the  Circle 
Conformed  Itself,  and  how  It  there  finds  place ; 

But  my  own  wings  were  not  enough  for  this, 
Had  it  not  been  that  then  my  mind  there  smote 
A  flash  of  lightning,  wherein  came  its  wish. 


1  The  Second  Person  of  the  Adorable  Trinity. 

2  The  Human  Nature  of  our  Blessed  Lord. 


286     The  Vision  ceases  :  Grace  remains. 

Here  vigor  failed  the  lofty  fantasy  : 
But  now  wa^  turning  my  desire  and  will, 
Even  as  a  wheel  that  equally  is  moved, 

The  Love  Which  moves  the  sun  and  the  other  stars. 

xxxm.  109-145. 


INDEX   I. 


EXTRACTS   FROM  THE  DIVINA   COMMEDIA. 


Inferno.  PAGE 

I.      61-93    Virgil  appears    . 32 

112-136    Virgil  proposes  the  Pilgrimage 34 

113—117     is  also  quoted        4 

II.     43-142  Of  the  descent  of  Beatrice  to  Limbo     .     .     .  35 

III.  1-9     Inscription  over  Hell  Gate        43 

22-30    Wailings  in  Ante- Hell 64 

95,  96    The  Pass-word  through  Hell 65 

IV.  31-63  Of  the  Souls  now  and  sometime  in  Limbo    .  ib. 
79-105    The  School  of  Poets 66 

V.       11,12     Minos  passing  sentence 47 

VII.       61-96    Of  Fortune 69 

VIII.       31-63     Filippo  Argenti 71 

IX.     34-105    Dis  held  and  forced 73 

XX.      25-30    Dante's  tears  over  the  Diviners 82 

XXI.      79-96    Eviltail's  deceit 83 

106-117     The  same 84 

124-126    The  same ib. 

XXII.       13-15    The  demon  escort ib. 

XXVI.       19-24  Dante  takes  warning  against   abuse   of  in- 
tellect        87 

90-142    Ulysses' last  voyage 15 

XXVII.    67-132    Guido  di  Montefeltro 88 

XXVIII.  112-142     Bertrand  de  Born 90 

XXIX.         1-36    Geri  del  Bello 91 


288  Index. 


Inferno.  PAGE 

XXX.  130-148  Dante  reproved  by  Virgil 94 

XXXII.      70-81  Bocca  degli  Abati 95 

82-1 1 1  The  same       96 

XXXIII.  1-78  Count  Ugolino 97. 

100-117  Ptolemaea.     Frate  Alberigo 100 

148-150  Dante  deceives  Frate  Alberigo 101 

XXXIV.  1-27  Lucifer  seen ib. 

28-67  Lucifer  described 102 

70-105  Earth's  centre  passed 104 

119-126  Of  Lucifer's  Fall 105 

I27~I39  Tne  ascent  from  Hell 106 

Purgatorio. 

I.     13-136  Cato  the  Warden 121 

II.       10-51  The  Angel's  boat 125 

III.  7-9  Virgil's  remorse 127 

22-45  Virgil  casts  no  shadow ib. 

118-145  Manfred  of  Naples 129 

IV.  25-33  The  steep  ascent 130 

121-129  Belacqua 131 

V.         i-2i  '  Let  people  talk ' ib. 

91-129  Buonconte  di  Montefeltro 132 

VI.       25-48  Of  Prayer  and  its  effect 134 

VII.       64-84  The  Dell  of  Princes 135 

121-123  Of  Degeneracy 136 

VIII.          1-39  The  two  Guardian  Angels 137 

85-108  The  Serpent-Adversary 138 

IX.     43-114  The  Gate  of  S.  Peter 139 

115-132  The  Gate  opened 142 

X.       28-45  Tne  Sculptures  of  Humility ib. 

94-1 1 1  The  Penitents  for  Pride 143 

112-139  The  same 144 


Index. 


289 


Purgatorio.  PAGE 

XI.        1-24    Their  prayer 145 

25-36    Their  suffering 146 

73-108     Oderisi  d'Agobbio 147 

XII.        1-72    The  Sculptures  of  Pride 149 

88-90    The  liberating  Angel 151 

112-126    The  first  P  effaced ib. 

XIII.  124-150     Sapia 153 

XIV.  86,87     Of  the  root  of  Envy 154 

127-129    The  departure  from  Terrace  II ib. 

143-151     Reproof  of  Envy ib. 

XV.      44-93  Of  the  remedy  for  Envy.  —  Entrance  on  Ter- 
race III 155 

130-132     '  Learn  Meekness ' 156 

139-145     The  smoke  of  Terrace  III 157 

XVI.       1-15     Dante  traversing  the  smoke ib. 

16-24    The  Penitents  for  Anger 158 

64-105  Of  Free-will  and  of  Government       ....    ib. 

XVII.   91-139  How  Love  may  be  the  seed  of  Sin    .    .     .     .160 

XIX.  58-63    The  Siren  baffled 163 

91-145     Pope  Adrian  V ib. 

XX.  1-9    The  walk  along  Terrace  V 165 

124-151     The  earthquake  and  the  hymn ib. 

XXI.  1-24    The  released  Shade 166 

25-81     Of  the  religion  of  the  Mountain 167 

94-136    Virgil  made  known  to  Statius 169 

XXII.  1-6    The  fifth  P  effaced 170 

130-154    The  first  Tree  of  emptiness 172 

XXIII.        1-24    The  Penitents  for  Gluttony ib. 

55-133    Dante  converses  with  Forese 173 

XXV.   109-129  The  Penitents  for  Lasciviousness     ....  176 

XXVII.        1-12  That  all  must  pass  through  the  Fire      .     .    .177 

13-18    Dante  shrinks  from  the  Fire 178 

19 


290 


Index. 


Purgatorio.  PAGE 

XXVII.       19-63  Dante  passes  through  the  Fire     .    .    .    .    .  178 

88-108  Dante's  dream  of  Leah  and  Rachel      .     .     .180 

109-142     Dante  enfranchised 181 

XXVIII.         1-42    The  Wood  of  Eden 183 

43-81     Matilda 185 

121-148  Of    the    Rivers   of    Eden   and   the   Golden 

Age 187 

XXIX.         1-30    The  burst  of  light  and  melody 188 

XXX.       13-54  Beatrice  descends.     Virgil  has  vanished  .    .  191 

55-145  Beatrice  accuses  Dante  to  the  Angels  .    .     .  192 

XXXI.        1-90    Beatrice  reproaches  Dante 195 

XXXIII.  103-145    Lethe  and  Eunoe 199 

Paradise. 

*•      43-*>3  The  §aze  at  the  Sun 208 

64-105  The  music  of  the  Spheres ib. 

121-142  How  Man,  like  Fire,  tends  upward       .     .     .210 

II.       19-48  The  Moon 211 

III.  7-51  The   Blessed  in  the  Moon.       Piccarda  de' 

Donati 212 

52-108     How  each  is  content  with  his  own  place  in 

Heaven.     Piccarda's  history 214 

109-120     Of  the  Empress  Constance 216 

121-130     Piccarda  vanishes ib. 

IV.  28-48    Of  the  true  abode  of  the  Blessed      .     .     .    .217 
67-138    Of  Violence.     Of  Will  absolute  and  relative. 

Of  Truth  and  Doubt 218 

v-       I9~33     Of  Free-will  and  Vows 220 

55-63     Of  Substitution  in  Vows 221 

VI.       82-93     Of  the    Roman  Eagle   under   Tiberius   and 

Titus 222 

112-142     Of  the  Blessed  in  Mercury.     Of  Romeo    .     .223 


Index. 


291 


Paradiso.  PAGE 

VII.     19-120  Of  the  Incarnation  and  the  Cross,  the  Fall 

and  Redemption 225 

VIII.       40-57  Charles  Martel,  one  of  the  Blessed  in  Venus  228 

X.       34-75     The  Blessed  in  the  Sun 230 

109-114    Of  Solomon 232 

121-129    Of  Boethius ib. 

XIII.  130-142    '  Judge  nothing  before  the  time ' 233 

XIV.    lo-iii  Of  the  Saints  after  the  Resurrection.  —  The 

Blessed  in  Mars .     .     ib. 

XV.   85-148  Cacciaguida  reasons  of  Florence  and  of  him- 
self   237 

XVII.     46-69  Cacciaguida  predicts  Dante's  exile  ....  239 

55-63     is  also  quoted 30 

94-142  Cacciaguida    urges    Dante    to    boldness   of 

speech 240 

XVIII.      52-69    The  ascent  to  Jupiter 242 

XIX.   22-114  Of  Divine  Justice  towards  the  Heathen     .     .  243 

89,  90     is  also  quoted 247 

XXI.  79-102  S.  Peter  Damian  treats  of  Election  .     .     .     .248. 

XXII.     52-72  S.  Benedict  reasons  of  the  Empyrean   .     .     .  249 

97-111  The  ascent  into  the  Starry  Heaven  .     .     .     .  250 

112-154    Looking  down  upon  the  Earth ib. 

151—153     is  also  quoted 30 

XXIII.  1-75     The  Triumph  of  Christ 252 

XXIV.  34-154  The  Confession  of  Faith  to  S.  Peter     .     .     .254 
XXV.         1-12     The  Poet's  laurel  crown 258 

28-48  S.  James  questions  Dante  of  Hope  .     .     .     .259 
49-99  The  Confession  of  Hope  to  S.  James   .     .     .  260 
XXVI.      16-69  The  Confession  of  Love  to  S.  John  ....  262 
82-142  Adam  sets  forth  four  points  concerning  him- 
self       264 

XXVII.  109-114     Of  the  Primum  Mobile 266 


Index. 


Paradiso.  PAGE 

XXVIII.       16-45    The  Nine  Angelic  Circles 266 

88-96    The  Angelic  coruscation 268 

XXIX.      13-21  Of  where,  when,  how  the  Angels  were  created     ib. 

49-66  Of  the  rebel  and  the  obedient  Angels   .     .     .  269 

130-145  Of  the   number  and  bliss  of  the  obedient 

Angels .     .  270 

XXX.  28-45     of  the  Empyrean ib. 

46-60    The  salute  of  Love 271 

61-132  The  progressive  vision  of  Beatitude      .     .     .  272 

XXXI.  1-102  The  Rose  and  the  Bees.     S.  Bernard    .     .     .  275 
103-142  The  Blessed  Virgin  on  her  throne     ....  278 

XXXII.       1-48     Of  the  divisions  of  the  Rose 279 

85-144  Of  the  Angel  Gabriel  and  the  Patrician  Saints  281 

XXXIII.    46-81  Dante  prepared  for  the  crowning  Vision  .     .  283 

109-145  The  Vision  of  the  Blessed  Trinity  and  the 

Word  Incarnate 284 


^s 
WM1 
4&>f 


INDEX    II. 


QUOTATIONS    FROM   DANTE'S   MINOR   WORKS. 


Vita  Nuova.  PAGE 

II.        Dante's  first  sight  of  Beatrice 18 

III.  Beatrice  salutes  Dante 20 

XXII.        Death  of  Folco  Portinari 21 

XXIX.        Death  of  Beatrice #. 

XL.        '  Adversary  of  Reason  ' ib. 

*  Strong  imagination '  of  Beatrice      ....     22 
XLIII.        Purpose  to  write  of  Beatrice 25 

Convito. 

Trattatol.  n     A  property  of  Envy 115 

II.  9    The  worst  of  Bestialisms 48 

13  Dante  consoled  by  Philosophy 22 

14  The  Planet  Mercury 203 

1 6     Praise  of  Philosophy 22 

Canzone  II.  4    Philosophy's  Fire-rain 55 

Trattato  III.  12     Philosophy  defined ib. 

15  The  Eyes  and  Smile  of  Wisdom 207 

Philosophy's  Fire-rain  interpreted     .     .     .     .     55 

IV.  17     Virtue  lies  in  the  mean 52 

28    '  Most  noble  Latin ' 87 


294  Index. 


De  MonarchiA.                                                                                    PAGE 
III.  15    The  two  Beatitudes 38 

Epistles. 

To  his  Florentine  Friend.     Dante  rejects  the  Amnesty    .     29 
To  Can  Grande  della  Scala.     The  subject  of  the  Corn- 
media  .112 


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